


Five Minutes Before Midnight

by mphilipak



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BDSM, Ball Crushing, Blood, Blood and Injury, Cock & Ball Torture, Degradation, Domme!MC, F/M, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Jealousy, M/M, Major Spoilers, Masturbation, Name Calling, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rape/Non-con Elements, Takes place before The Arcana Game, everyone wants MC, genital spanking, minor pet play, pervertables
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:42:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23734051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mphilipak/pseuds/mphilipak
Summary: The apprentice finds herself beneath the palace as a Doctor in search of a cure, and while each day brings new challenges, can she find the strength and direction to follow what she wants, or what she needs?
Relationships: Apprentice/Julian Devorak, Apprentice/Lucio (The Arcana), Lucio/Valerius (The Arcana)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 132





	1. Plunging into the Deep

She laid there in her bed, unmoving from the warmth of her covers, though she was wide awake.

She’d been awake since early dawn, the sounds of the town awakening were just loud enough to stir her, but truth be told, she got little sleep these days, for death had come to Vesuvia.

She could no longer feel the warmth of a body behind her, and after turning her head slightly, saw that Asra had left her in the middle of the night, the spot where he lay cold and empty.

Stretching her legs and arms out with a slight groan, she rubbed the remaining sleep from her eyes and rose from the bed, shivering at the chill in the air. In nothing but her shift, she took the stairs down, asking the golden salamander in their stove to help warm the house, making sure to give him a few pieces of wood while she was at it.

He chirped meekly, already glowing with heat at she closed the lid to the stove.

“Thank you,” quietly escaped her lips, returning to the bedroom to get dressed.

It won’t be long before people will be lining the shop’s front door, near begging for potions to save a loved one from death, or prevent someone they know from getting sick, despite her insistence that if such a plague could be cured through magic, then the Count would’ve found the cure by now.

Reaching for a brush, she sat in front of a mirror fogged from the growing heat of the shop, still cold to the touch. Brushing out her curls, she thought to herself.

_If only I could help them, beyond lessening their pain._

She gave no false hope, never sugarcoated the truth. Not even she could lie to a strangers face amidst these times, but with each passing week, she noticed many of her former regulars stopped coming to the shop, even just to say hello. She tried not to think of it.

She heard the door downstairs open and close with a ring of the bell, soft footsteps following the sound as they made their way to her from downstairs.

_Asra_.

Turning to watch him enter the room, he sighed gently when he realized she was no longer asleep, and that he needn’t be worried of waking her, but there was more written on his face.

“How did you sleep?” His eyes fluttered shut as he spoke, taking off his traveling clothes as he dragged his feet towards the bed, tossing each piece of clothing on the floor as he took a step.

“Not well, if I’m being honest.” She returned to her hair, taking strands of it and braiding it absentmindedly, her eyes shut and able to do it by memory. Her eyelids ached and if she wasn’t actively braiding her hair and sitting on a stool, she might’ve fallen back to sleep right then.

“Hey, we don’t need to open the shop today.” She felt his hands on either side of her shoulders, gently massaging them, paying extra attention to her neck by rubbing small circles up and down it, stopping only at the base of her hairline, sending shivers down her spine.

“If only...” she leaned back into Asra’s body, his presence a relief as she tied off the last bit of her braid.

“I’m serious. You won’t help anyone by running yourself into the ground.”

“I know, but even if we didn’t open, we both know I still wouldn’t sleep.”

He breathed deeply through his nose, stepping away and allowing her to wrap her hair in a tight bun, pinning the braid to the back of her head. She didn’t look for his expression, rather focusing on getting dressed for the day.

“Would you like me to make you some tea, then?”

She smiled, catching his own in the reflection of the mirror as he stood in the doorway.

“If you would, please.”

_____________

“Take care, sir, and be sure to give the missus a kiss from me.”

She waved goodbye to the last customer of the morning, and as the door shut, she almost rushed over to lock it, flipping the sign to CLOSED, before sliding down to the floor, already exhausted by midday.

Asra came from behind the curtain to their card room, coming to lean on the side of the counter in front of her, saying everything he wanted to with his eyes, bright and caring.

“Yes?” She smiled, leaning her head back and looking up at him through her heavy lidded eyes.

The side of his mouth twitched upwards before moving to stand in front of her, extending his arms down. Grabbing her wrists, he pulled her up to her feet while carefully wrapping his own arms around her body, his head gently resting on top of hers.

They stood there for a moment, just holding each other. She listened to his fluttering heartbeat, which was once was enough to calm her nerves.

_Not anymore, though._

“Have you given any thought to what I said last night?” She sighed, pulling away just enough to look him in the eye.

“Yes, and I haven’t changed my mind.” She tried to pull away further, but his grip tightened around her.

“Please, don’t go.”

“I can’t sit here doing nothing. I could help-”

“Have you seen what’s outside? We could both die just living here, please, we must go.”

She slipped out of his arms, no longer comfortable being so close to him.

_It hurt too much._

“I’ve made my decision, Asra, so please, don’t make this harder than it has to be.” She felt herself getting choked up towards the end, her eyes brimming with tears as she quickly wiped them away with her shawl.

Asra looked defeated, cautiously approaching her, but made sure not to touch her.

“For what it’s worth, I believe in you. I know you can help people.” She felt like almost gasping for air, still fighting her tears.

“I just worry for you.”

“I know.”

_____________

She stood at the gates to the palace patiently, waiting for the some of the guards to verify who she was.

“So, you’re the new doctor, right?” A grimy guard leaning against one of the grey pillars spoke to her. She could almost see the sweat beading on his brow, and she made sure to take a step back.

“Hoping to be. I’ve no training in medicine, but I’ve been a practicing magician for years now. I’m hoping I can be of some use.” She tucked a wild curl behind her ear before it sprung back out.

“Ah, that’s... nice. One of the boys’ll take ya to your new boss.” Nodding to the men on the other side of the gates, they opened with an eerie grown, like they’ve forgotten how to open since the plague’s started.

_This place used to be so beautiful._

Before walking in, though, a cart covered with a white cloth being drawn by a horse came through. She didn’t have to ask about the contents.

_She could smell it._

“Former servants?” Her question was hollow, unnecessary, a desperate attempt at conversation as they watched the cart roll by.

“No, doctors.”


	2. Darkness Rising

She followed two guards through the palace, trying not to look like a commoner gawking at the finery of the palace, and probably failed, but no one paid her mind, not even the guards as they drudged through the halls. Eventually they stopped in front of a singular person in the hallway, a oddly placed cabinet behind them, dressed in a stainless white coat that covered their entire body, with a pointy white hat, and... unnaturally red eyes, fixated on her.

“Quaestor, this is-”

“I know who she is, now leave us.”

The two men all but hurried out of the hallway, which was otherwise deserted, save her and this man. They held their gloved hands together, twisting their head left and right, almost as if they were examining her.

_It made her skin crawl._

“Interesting. A young woman with no medical training wishes to be a doctor amidst this...” they trailed off, gesturing with their hands, “plague.” She could hear him struggle to say the word, as if it’s mere existence in his vocabulary was foreign to him.

Her mouth drys up right as she’s about to speak, but it seems the Quaestor had no real interest in whatever she had to say.

“Come along, then, I’m more than delighted to show you were you’ll be spending the remainder of your time here.” Their voice felt like ice against her body, but she followed obediently behind him.

She wished Asra was here.But he wasn’t, and wouldn’t be coming. This was her decision, her choice. 

_I hope I survive it._

She wasn’t paying attention until she almost ran into the Quaestor as they pulled a set of keys from their apron, opening what she initially thought was a cabinet, leading her into a library of impossible size.

Was there where she was to stay? She saw no patients, no other signs of anyone in the library.

_No, that wouldn’t make sense._

Shaking her head, she followed inside the library, actively trying to not show how unnerved she was whenever the Quaestor looked at her, as if she was a piece of meat, as they closed the bookshelf behind her.

The Quaestor seemed uninterested in small talk, and she wasn’t paying attention (again) when she saw, or rather heard, another bookshelf open to a dark and silent corridor, though this didn’t seem to stop the Quaestor.

_They must come and go here often, not needing any light to travel these halls._

She held a hand against the wall closest to her before following, ever aware of her lack of ability to see an incoming turn, and relying solely on the sound of the Quaestor’s footsteps. But eventually, the hallways were eerily filled with a dark light, that covered the hall with a sickly red. It’s source was a small elevator, and in it, the Quaestor waited patiently for her.

Without a word, she swallowed her fear and ignored the voice in her head to turn back and run as she moved to fit in this ever so small space with her new boss.

The door clanged shut, momentarily groaning before descending down further into what would surely be her grave.

_Just remember why you’re doing this._

_____________

_What am I doing here?_

She certainly looked the part here, now garbed in the dark robes, finally matching the plague doctors she’d seen in town, but if hell was a place, she felt like it could be here.

Many of the doctors were busy, either scribing away, dissecting... corpses, or trying out what she could only guess were possible treatments on patients still living in their cells. Of all the things she imagined, this was not what she expected to find beneath the castle, and it unnerved her.

She was jostled quickly out of her reverie by someone bumping into her from behind, hard, so much so that they almost knocked her off her feet.

Turning indignantly, she looked up at the tall man who’d bombarded his way into her, all but hiding behind a bunch of books he was carrying.

“Do you normally barge into others around here, or is it just because I’m new here?” She placed her hands on her hips, feet spread apart, surely looking all the more confident than she felt. His eyes, a dark grey in this horrific lighting, looked down at her in surprise.

She suddenly felt way more of an ass, realizing he must’ve not seen her when he ran into her.

“Sorry about that. I’ll just... I’ll just be on my way now, pardon me.”

He tip toed around her, feeling for any further obstacles with his feet. More than once hitting her feet with his as he navigated.

“Do you... need some help?”

“No! Never! I’m quite alright.” He tried cutting her off, still making slow progress as she strode beside him, taking note of how he made an effort not to look at her.

“I can take a few, here...” She reached as high as she could to take enough books off the top of his stash so that he could see where (and into who) he was walking. She could’ve swore a slight blush had touched his fair cheeks, but then again, it was probably the light in this place. Everything looked red.

“Ah... thank you.” His gaze shifted back and forth before making his way to an extremely small room, only large enough to allow a small desk and chair and maybe some wiggle room if someone held their breath in and just never breathed.

The man dropped the books with a solid thud, turning to take hers from her hands, struggling to manage having two people in such a tiny space.

“Here, let me just set them...”

“No, please, allow me.”

“That really isn’t necessary.”

She held the books close to her chest while squeezing herself past the doctor, her back to his chest for a brief moment.

“There!” She gently set them down, now finally looking at the tomes in proper candlelight from the desk. They were beautiful, bound in dyed leathers with golden letters printed on the front. They were works of art, and though she was no stranger to a library and reading such things, every book he’d brought with him must’ve been worth a considerable sum. She turned to the first few pages, glancing at the book’s index, and paused.

_They were about... beetles? Bugs? How strange._

“Why does a medical doctor need to read about beetles?” She turned, book in hand, staring up at the lanky tree of a man.

He almost stammered, clearly uncomfortable, “W-Well, I have a theory, or a working theory, rather. I think there may be a link between the plague and the blood within a person, and with that book in particular, it focuses on insects that feed on blood, in some way or another.” He fidgeted with the straps on gloves absentmindedly as he spoke.

“Oh that’s... nice. Makes sense, I guess.” She knew next to nothing about all this stuff and already it was showing.

They stood their awkwardly for a moment, briefly glancing at each other.

_His eyes were beautiful, especially with those curls..._

“Anyways, I’m sure you’re really busy, and I probably have to... find something to do.” She quickly pushed past him, ignoring how close he was, leaving him alone in his small room.

“Hey, wait a minute.” She turned to look at him, watching him lean against the doorframe, far more confidently than she’d seen a moment before. She couldn’t help but match his smile.

“Yes?”

“What’s your name? I haven’t seen you here before.”

“It’s Anne, and nor would you have, I just showed up today, actually.” His brow perked up, crossing his arms.

“And so, Miss Anne, what brings a lady like you to this awful place?” He looked down at her, head tilted, and a lazy smile spread across his face.

Mirroring him, she crossed her arms, “Looking to help where I can, or at least try to.”

He chuckled, though it sounded closer to a rumble in his chest.

“So what’s you’re speciality? Surgeon? Academic? No wait, I bet you’re actually a veteran medic, it’s always the ones that never look the part. How close am I?”

_Fuck_.

“None of those, actually. I’m a magician, by trade, and a good one at that.”

His eyes widened, standing upright now.

“Like... magic? Actual magic?” He sounded curious, not at all the dismissive and critical opinion she feared from the doctors here.

“Oh no, definitely the fake kind.” She smiled, her cheeks feeling warm.

“Heh, of course. Truthfully, it would be too much to hope for a miraculous cure at this rate.” His expression was sobering when he looked behind her, and she recalled where she was exactly.

“So... what’s your name?”

Might as well try and get to know someone she may be working with a lot.

His expression softened, no longer as dire, “The other doctors call me Doctor Devorak, or if you’re like Valdemar, call me Doctor 069. However, you may call me Julian.”

“Because I’m not a doctor?”

“Hardly, I just hate all the formalities.”

“Ah.”

Another awkward silence lingered between them, and she wasn’t sure she could handle much more of those today before he spoke.

“You said you needed to find something to do... would you mind helping me? I could use an extra hand.”

“Oh? With what, exactly?”

“Research. Or, if you’d prefer, I’m sure they could use an extra set of hands to sterilize the dissection tools and disinfect the tables. It’s actually an important job, they really need to do it more-”

“Please... please don’t go into anymore details. I’d be glad to just do some reading right now.”

“Excellent! Here...” He reached for one of the books she’d helped bring in, and handed it to her.

“Think you can handle this?” The tome was large, and heavy, but certainly something she could tackle, given enough time and coffee.

“You do realize I’m a magician, yes? Reading was a large part of that.”

Sitting down in his rickety chair, it squeaked loudly as he put his full weight into it, crossing his long legs in front of him.

“I wouldn’t dare to presume anything, Miss Anne, least of all with magic.”

_Of course not._

She smiled as she walked up to his desk, pushing a pile to the side as he watched, a confused look on his face.

“What are you doing?”

Without answering, she lifted herself up just enough so that she could comfortably sit on his desk, her feet dangling off the side, and turning to the first few pages beyond the book’s index.

“Getting comfortable. Yourself?”

Looking at him beyond the brim of the book, she couldn’t help but stifle a giggle into her hand as he quickly became flustered by her boldness, though he recovered a few seconds later.

“I can get another chair, you know.”

“It wouldn’t fit in here comfortably. Not with those legs.”

He couldn’t even begin to hide his blush in the candlelight, and he decided he’d rather bury his own face in a book instead of giving her a witty reply, kicking his legs up against the wall and balancing his weight on the back legs of the chair.

_____________

She wasn’t sure how long it’d been, there didn’t seem to be any real passage of time here, but they'd been at it for long enough for Julian to replace the candle, and for her to finish one tome. She made notes where she could, trying to summarize entire chapters into a few sentences, though she admittedly struggled with words and concepts that she’d never seen before, ultimately making her reading go all the more slower. She asked Julian a lot of questions. Probably too many, but he didn’t seem to mind at all, and for that she was thankful. She really wanted to learn, and it was a bit overwhelming, but she was starting to doze off, having to reread paragraphs because she kept zoning out while reading.

She put a makeshift bookmark (a folded piece of parchment) to mark her place before closing the book, rubbing her tired and sore eyes with her hands to the point it both hurt and felt good at the same time.

“You know, you don’t have to stay up with me.” His voice was quiet when he spoke, matching the rest of the dungeon now, which had grown mostly quiet, save for the diehards who refused to sleep, or worked hours that most people didn’t.

“Do you ever sleep?” He laughed gently, but she could see the dark circles under his eyes.

“Sometimes. You needn’t worry yourself, give me a few hours and some coffee and I’ll be good to go for the day.”

_That’s so unhealthy._

“Well, you really should get some rest, besides, I need to know where I’ll be sleeping while I’m here.”

“Oh, shit, well then,” he quickly closed the book, marking his page with a quill, “I don’t suppose anyone told you where you’d be staying, that is, if you wanted to stay in the dungeon for the night?”

“No, the Quaestor wasn’t really the chatty type. Just showed me where I’d be working and where the uniform was, and then left me to my own devices as soon as we hit the dissection room.” She grimaced at the memory, and Julian looked no more pleased by the idea of the Quaestor than she was.

“Valdemar is hardly my first option for anything, let alone asking for help, so I don’t blame you there. However, they should’ve mentioned that most of the doctors, unless they’re of some noble birth or insanely rich, pile into a room together, if they’re so inclined. Otherwise, they find lodging in town.”

She thought of how many doctors she’d seen today alone.

“Surely not all of them? They’d be sleeping on the floor.”

“Oh they do, almost every night, in fact. Just depends on how lucky you are if you manage to get into one of the beds each night.”

She could already feel her back aching, and the idea of sleeping on a stone floor was agonizing.

Julian must’ve been able to see it on her face. Not that she tried to hide it, either.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be the bearer of bad news.”

“It’s not your fault. I just... don’t have anything to sleep with. Not a blanket, or a pillow. And the idea of sleeping right next to people I hardly know isn’t the most inviting idea.”

And she didn’t want to walk all the way back to the shop. She’d get little sleep by the time she got there, getting only a few hours before needing to be heading back.

Careful of Julian’s legs, she slid off the desk and stretched, her hands behind her head.

_This was gonna suck._

“Well, would you mind showing me where this room is?”

“Naturally.”

_____________

The room smelled of sweat and the heat radiating from this room was nauseating at first. Julian wasn’t joking either, the room was filled of men and women pushed up against each other, some even under the beds themselves, sleeping. The hardest part was finding a place to lay down, and it seemed that unless she was content to sleep in a tight corner between strangers, she’d have to find another solution.

She pulled out her coin purse, counting what she brought with her.

_Enough for a room, definitely._

Julian was still beside her when he spoke, his tall frame leaning over her shoulder.

“What’s that for?”

“A room, hopefully. Do you know a good inn nearby? I don’t know this part of town well...”

They stepped away from the room, the air feeling cool in comparison to that room, and she looked to Julian, swearing she could see the wheels turning inside his head.

“There’s, well, there’s a local favorite of mine, but I hardly think it’d be a place you’d enjoy to sleep at. It’s a little loud without large amounts of liquor to put you to sleep.”

She chuckled lightly, “Beggars can’t be choosers, so, where is it?”

“Well, you see, it’s not in the best part of town. Great people, even better brews, but it’s hardly safe for a young woman like yourself. No, I’d have to walk you there, without question, and if I’m already walking with you there, then...”

A touch of red colored Julian’s face, continuing, “... Then I may as well offer you the courtesy ofmy own home, or rather, my clinic. It’s nearby, though I must admit, it’s in no safer a neighborhood as the inn I mentioned.”

She smiled, “Are you sure?”

With a bold smile, “Absolutely. A moment, if you would, I’d like to gather some things before we go.”

“Such as?” She followed him, almost needing to jog to keep up with his long legs as they walked back to his office.

“Our research, of course. I’ll simply continue working while you rest.”

_She rolled her eyes. At least one of them would rest._


	3. Passionate Silence

She held a rag to her face as she followed Julian through the dark alleys to his clinic, trying to mask the horrible smell of this neighborhood, with a grimy, dirty river being the source, which came from the palace.

Julian was careful to keep close to her, not letting her fall behind him more than a pace or two, and a good thing he didn’t, as she could sense several pairs of eyes on her back, and she couldn’t help but think that the only reason they hadn’t approached her was because of Julian, who clearly felt at home amidst the grime, dirt, and shadows.

They seemed to reach their destination quickly, though, when they rounded a corner and Julian pulled a ring of keys off his belt. She could hear the distant sounds of a lively party as he unlocked and opened the door, stepping in and holding the door open for her.

Thankful to be here, he closed the door behind her, and she heard, rather than saw, him move in the darkness. A loud thud and the sound of a match lighting later, he stood close to her, a candle in hand, moving about the room lighting various candles until the very small clinic was lit.

Vials upon vials filled shelves along the walls, along with the smell of frankincense and various herbs, anesthetics, and medical tools she couldn’t even begin to guess their function. Books and medical notes covered the counters, and Julian had to find and clear a place to set down the book he brought, and when he did, she heard a low... bark? Coming from the next room?

“Is that...?”

More deep barking, and the patter of paws on a wood floor quickly approaching.

“Brundle, my sweet adorable girl, hush now!” Julian set down the candle safely before bending over in the doorway, and she moved so that she could see Julian’s face being licked by the biggest, oldest, wrinkliest dog she’d ever seen.

“Oh my...”

_PUPPY_.

“Can I pet her?” Her voice was bordering on a squeal, she loved animals, and the wrinkles!

“Of course, she’s just a sweet girl, mind the slobber though, she can’t help it.”

Midway through his sentence, she did her best from rushing Brundle, getting on her knees before giving her the best scratches behind her ears she could, earning a contented groan, but it was when Brundle laid down and turned her belly up for belly rubs that she truly felt blessed.

_Best night ever._

Julian gave her a few belly rubs, laughing heartily, but she couldn’t look away from how Brundle’s entire face drooped when she was upside down, her gums hanging so low that her teeth were all exposed.

“Oh Julian, I love her.” She looked at him finally, feeling like a small happy child, and he matched her joy.

“Who couldn’t?” He stood, taking it slow while putting his hands on his knees and ignoring a pop or two coming from them, and disappeared in the next room, lighting two more candles in there so she could finally see what was inside.

It was clear this was where he slept, with an unmade bed and desk no less cluttered than the one at the palace. He shucked off his long coat, throwing it over the chair before unbuttoning the front of his shirt, showing the loose white shirt underneath it that generously exposed his chest for anyone with eyes.

“You’re more than welcome to take the bed, though you may have to fight Brundle for it.” He finally removed his top shirt and gloves, running his fingers through his hair while watching her still love on Brundle, a gentle look in his eyes.

“Oh that’s alright, she’s more than welcome to join me.” She stood up, sorry for leaving Brundle behind, as she approached the bed, undoing the front of her apron.

“I, uh, I’m sorry the bed isn’t made, I wasn’t expecting-”

“Hush, Julian, I never make my bed either.” She tossed her apron on the bed, turning her head to look at him blush. Brundle began to nose at his leg insistently, whining with increased urgency.

“I know, I know, girl, let’s go.” He pulled a leash out of... somewhere, wrapping it loosely around Brundle’s neck, walking towards the front door.

“We’ll be back soon, don’t worry! I don’t think she can hold it much longer.”

The door opened and closed without another word, and she smiled gingerly, taking off her top layers of clothing, shoes, and undoing the now painfully tight braid, allowing her hair to flow freely across her shoulders.

In nothing but her shirt and her underskirt, she sat down on the bed, fluffing the pillows vigorously before getting cozy under the blankets, gently massaging her tender scalp as she waited for the two of them to return.

The peaceful quiet of the clinic was... comforting. She already felt herself drifting off to sleep when the sound of the door opening, of course followed by an excited Brundle bounding (or as fast as she could, with as old as she looked) to her, crawling on the bed and rolling on top of her, happily groaning and wagging her tail as she snuggled with her.

“Oh you sweet thing...” She heard Julian laugh quietly at her by the doorway, leaning in the doorframe as he watched.

“What?”

“Oh nothing, just... she seems to like you, and I’m glad, she hasn’t been able to get out and see people as much as she’s used to.”

“Do you not see clients, anymore?”

“No, I’ve... admittedly been swamped with curing the cause, rather than treating its symptoms.” He reached for the book he brought with him, taking a seat at his desk, the candlelight casting soft shadows behind him as he found the spot where he’d left off.

“I hope you... find time for yourself, though.” He tilted his head slightly, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Oh, definitely. When in need of a strong brew and a hot meal, the Rowdy Raven provides.”

“The Rowdy Raven? Is that the inn you mentioned?”

“Yes, you might’ve heard it when we first arrived.”

“... And now I’m infinitely grateful to be able to sleep here, where it’s quiet, rather than in a boisterous tavern, though I’m sure it has its charm.”

“We’ll have to go sometime, you’ll be sure to love it.”

He continued his reading, making little marks in the book with a quill from his desk occasionally.

“... Julian? Can I ask you a question?”

Without looking up at her, “Shoot.”

“... Where will you be sleeping tonight?”

“Uh...” He shifted in his seat awkwardly, “... I thought I’d just stay up and read, let you have the bed. If I have to sleep, I can get comfortable here at the desk, I’ve certainly fallen asleep here before.”

“Julian, no, you can’t give up your bed and sleep at the desk, you’ll be aching for it in the morning. Here...” she shifted to make more room on the bed, and patted the bed by her feet for Brundle to move, even lifting the blanket for her to get settled comfortably underneath.

“You can join me whenever you’re done reading for the night, okay?”

“I, uh, well, I wouldn’t want to impose, my lady...”

“I’m hardly a lady, Julian, and besides...” she fell back into her pillows, sweeping her hair to the side so that it covered the pillows, “I offered.”

He seemed to become... a blushing mess at her words, really, unsure of what to do or say in response. She extended her hand towards him, inviting him to join her now, or else she had a feeling he’d never come to the bed willingly.

“Come, bring your book.”

He swallowed, obeying her simple command eagerly, making sure to take off his boots before sitting back on the small bed. He was careful to give her enough room so that he wouldn’t be touching her, at least, not without permission.

She didn’t move much, but she looked him up and down as he tried to read, but he was painfully aware of her gaze, and she knew it and couldn’t help but giggle.

“Yes?”

“Oh nothing, just you.”

“Oh? What about me?”

“I think you’re cute.”

He all but sputtered out unintelligible words, a deep blush forming, “That... that is...” He closed his book, looking her in the eyes.

They were so close, she could practically feel the heat coming off of him, and she could smell the cologne on him, feeling short of breath.

“Yes?” She couldn’t decide whether to look him in the eyes or stare at his lips, or perhaps even the curve of his neck, following down to his exposed chest.

“I... may I...?” Julian waited patiently, and yet somehow impatiently, at the same time, not finishing his statement. He didn’t need to.

Slightly leaning forward, she met him halfway in a slow and gentle kiss, but she felt just bold enough that as soon as she tasted him, she dared to flick her tongue against his mouth, causing him to moan into her mouth while deepening their kiss, dropping the book on the ground before cradling her face with his hands.

Exploring, she slipped a hand down to the bottom of his shirt, pulling it out of his waistline so that she could feel him burning beneath, lightly dragging her nails up his torso until her hand came out the top of his shirt, resting at his collarbone. Julian arched his entire body towards her as she moved, playfully biting at her bottom lip, leaving a trail of passionate, wet kisses from her mouth, to her neck, and back to her lips, and the feeling of his long fingers tangling themselves together in her hair drove her wild.

“Julian...” She whispered his name, and he pulled back just enough to look in her eyes, and she could see his lust for her written all over his face.

“Is everything ok? I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?”

“No... no, Julian, just...” she rolled herself on top of him, pushing him into the bed as she straddled him with her thighs, “... touch me.”

She pulled her shirt off, tossing it to the floor, and felt Julian’s warm hands roam over her body, pulling up her skirt so he could pull her closer to him by her hips, taking extra time to grab her ass, softly dragging his nails as he did, clearly testing the waters in order to learn what she liked and what she didn’t.

His nails made her gasp, and she moved her hips against his, rubbing at him through his clothes, her hands placed firmly in the middle of his chest. The best part about this however, wasn’t how he touched her, but how he looked at her. He looked sick with wanting, his eyes heavily lidded and beautiful as he watched her move on top of him, his hair a mess against the pillows, panting.

Continuing to take charge, she grabbed one of his hands and moved it to her breast, while moving his other hand to her inner thigh, smiling ear to ear as he took the initiative to touch her, rubbing his thumb against her in delicate, slow circles, and as much as she wanted to enjoy each moment as much as she could, she pushed herself harder against his hand, her head falling back with a sweet moan between his thumb working at her clit and the other playing with her breasts.

She pouted at him suddenly stopping, almost whining when he moved (with her still in his lap) to a sitting position, moving pillows to support his back, pulling her closer to him. She loosely wrapped her arms around his neck as he planted kisses across her chest, taking her breasts in his mouth, sucking and licking, occasionally biting at her nipples, leaving soft kisses afterwards if he nipped her a little too roughly.

“I want you.” He breathed the words in between kisses and gentle love bites.

“Then do something about it.”

He moaned into her shoulder, rolling her underneath him as he pushed his hips into hers, legs wrapped around him.

They paused for a moment, waiting for the now awake Brundle to slowly slide out from beneath the covers onto the floor, no longer tolerating their... activities as she tried to sleep.

“Sorry Brundle...” She felt a tinge of embarrassment, but Julian was already an expert at distracting her, his mouth on hers, tongue exploring and sending shivers throughout her entire body.

She began to undo the laces of his pants, taking her time with them before helping him ease out of his pants enough for her to feel him, hard and burning in her hands. She kissed him playfully as she stroked him, enjoying the sound of him gasping in her hands.

He pushed against her, his passion overwhelming, and she laughed softly at his insistence.

“What are you...?” He panted into her ear, still trying to line himself up with her, but she stopped him with her hand.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

He pulled back to look at her, auburn curls tickling her nose as he struggled to think of something that he might’ve forgotten.

“Say,” she moved him, rubbing his head against her entrance, “... please.”

He melted into another kiss, whispering that magic word over... and over... practically begging her.

“Please... please let me...” She shifted, using her legs to pull him close to her, their breath mingling as he slid inside her, their foreheads touching in the silence of their passion.

The moment only lasted for a short while, though, as Julian moved at an agonizingly slow pace.

“Julian, faster...” she whined, trailing kisses along his cheek, ending at the corner of his jaw.

“Now now, what’s the magic word, again?” She heard the smile in his voice, and she decided to take a bit of a risk.

With impressive speed, and bit down on the tender spot between his neck and shoulders, digging nails into his shoulder blades, and he grunted from the pain.

She kissed the large love bite before whispering, “Fuck me, Julian.”

He sped up, throwing her legs up so that her feet rested over his shoulders as he grabbed her hips for leverage. She held her hands over his, desperate to touch him but not wanting to distract him as he fucked her. She could’ve gotten drunk off the sight of him, panting and a mess, kissing and nipping at her calves when he wasn’t watching her breasts bouncing.

She felt herself building, the sound of him slamming into her filling the room along with her cries of pleasure, greedily demanding he go faster and faster, harder.

Right on the edge, she felt like she’d go mad, desperately wanting to cum, and with her hand still on his, Julian started rubbing her clit again with his thumb, sending her over the edge.

She couldn’t stop from nearly bucking into him, and he struggled to stay inside while still fucking her as she came on his dick.

As she finally came down from her orgasm, Julian lasted a few more strokes before he pulled out, spending himself on top of her, biting his lip to stay quiet.

Once he’d finished, he glanced at the mess he’d made on her, embarrassed.

“Oh, just... just one moment, here...” he got out of bed and searched for something in the front room, coming back with a clean rag and some water in a cup, taking time to clean her off completely, handing the cup of water to her before doing so.

“How, um.. how are you?” She laughed at him, pleasantly warm and relaxed as he cleaned her stomach, enjoying having something to drink while he did so.

“I’m doing wonderful, hush. I’ll be better once you join me.”

He beamed confidently down at her, setting the rag aside and taking the cup from her once she’d finished the water off, and once more laid down beside her, pulling the cover up as he did.

“So, do you normally sleep with the new doctors?” She snuggled close to him, kissing his neck as he chuckled.

“Only the pretty ones, I assure you.”

“Mmm.”

“Goodnight, Miss Anne.”

“Goodnight, Julian.”

_____________

Sitting in the palace’s private library, she sat comfortably in a corner reading one of Julian’s books and taking notes. It was probably midday by now, with how the sun no longer shined into the large windows behind her, and while she was hungry and slightly tired of sitting on the floor, she could enjoy the view she had all day.

Julian lounged in one of the sitting chairs, a leg hiked over one of the arms as he sat there, an all too serious expression on his face as he read.

_He can never manage to sit in a chair properly._

She found it incredibly difficult to focus with him sitting like that, and having had a meager breakfast after having no dinner, she needed to lunch, and so did he.

Easing herself up, she left her book behind as she sat on the side of his armchair, and ran her fingers through his curls, gently scratching his scalp. At first he slightly jumped at her sudden presence, but when he felt her fingernails in his hair, he let his head fall back and into her shoulder with a contented groan.

They were alone in the library, but as much as she wanted to, she knew that anyone could walk in there and see them at any given time.

“We should get some food, Julian.”

His eyes remained closed as he spoke, “I suppose so. Did you have anything in mind?”

“Well we are in a fancy palace, with a fancy kitchen...” She watched a small smile pull at his lips.

“It’s true, or so I’ve heard.” He set aside his book unceremoniously to the side, using his other hand to pull her wrist from his hair to his lips, peppering the inside of it with soft kisses.

“Lets go.”

_____________

Julian held a warm loaf of bread in his hands, sliced cold meat and cheese in hers, both wrapped in a towel, as they looked for a place in the gardens to sit.

“Are you sure that no one will mind if we sit here in the garden?”

“What are they gonna do, arrest us?” He turned to her, taking a seat on a stone bench near a massive fountain.

“Well, I don’t know, I’m just not used to the idea of making myself comfortable in the middle of...” she loosely gestured towards the palace that towered over them.

He tugged at her skirt hard enough to pull her down beside him, his hand sneaking around her back to hold her hip.

“Give it a try, then.” She felt her cheeks get warm from more than just the hot sun, and she suddenly felt shy, hiding her face in his shoulder.

The beautiful silence of their shared moment was interrupted by two white hounds racing past them, barking loudly while rough housing with each other, their golden collars blinding her in the light.

“Aww, Julian, look at them, they’re so cute...” She felt him go tense underneath her touch, and when she looked at him, his eyes were wide, darting around the garden.

“Julian? What’s the-”

“Doctor Jules! Finally dragging yourself out of the palace and not hiding in some dark, cold hole for a change?”

She looked to see a blonde haired man in a stark white suit approaching them, his cape dramatically trailing behind him as he strode up to the two of them, but when she finally saw the shining gold on his left arm, she popped up immediately, doing her best to curtsy as he approached.

She looked at the ground as he approached, a richly obnoxious laugh followed by the sight of his leather boots in front of her.

“My my, Jules, who is this pretty thing you’ve brought me?” She felt the cool touch of his gauntlet underneath her chin as he lifted it, and she met his steel eyes obediently, the intricate art beneath them moving upwards as he smiled at her, though she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing yet. The Count had... a reputation, to say the least.

“Lucio, _don’t_.” The Count snapped his head towards Julian, a vicious glare and snarl on his face, and she went wide eyed, fearful for Julian being so casual with him.

“I’m hurt, Jules. You bring a beautiful woman into my palace, and become upset with me when I ask for an introduction?”

“It’s never so simple with you, Lucio.”

“How dare you-” he dropped her chin, turning to Julian who stood confidently, arms crossed and stoic as he glared down at the Count.

“Lucio, would it be so tearable for you to not antagonize our good doctor while he ate?”

We all turned to the sound of the smooth, silky voice as a beautiful woman dressed in flowing silks and colorful prints approached them.

The Countess. She needn’t have told anyone, the way she held herself was announcement of her status alone.

Moving to stand between her and the Count, she smiled at her, waving her hand.

“Please, you needn’t remain in such an uncomfortable stance.” Standing upright, she held her hands in front of her, but not before nervously tucking a stray curl underneath the modest coif she’d chosen to wear today, clearly intimidated by the intense gaze of the Countess.

“I wasn’t interrupting anything, Noddy! I just wanted to say hello...” He crossed his arms, scowling as the Countess didn’t hide her annoyance, eyes closed.

Anne looked at Julian without moving her head, but her eyes screamed for help. 

_What is going on?_

“Of course, dear husband. So,” she smiled at her, her long lashes distracting Anne for a moment before meeting her crimson eyes, “who do we have the pleasure of meeting this afternoon? Are you a friend of Doctor Devorak’s?”

She was trying to be kind, her smile inviting as she waited patiently for Anne’s answer.

“Anne, my lady. I’ve recently come to the palace to help search for a cure to the Red Plague.”

The Countess smiled warmly, “I see, so you are a doctor as well? Forgive my rudeness, I should’ve been made aware of your arrival.”

“Actually, my lady, I’m-”

“She’s my apprentice, actually!” Julian chimed in, standing protectively behind her while speaking to the two.

Count Lucio’s eyes went wide, sneering at Julian, “You have an apprentice now, Jules? Since when?”

“Since a few days ago.”

“ _Hmph_.”

Between Lucio’s pouting, the sound of the two dogs play fighting, and the sound of leaves being rustled by the wind, the Countess’s voice was a saving grace.

“We were just about to break for lunch, would you two care to join us?” She glanced at our makeshift lunch, concerned.

Count Lucio lit up like a small child filled with mischievous glee, smiling at her.

“I think that’s a great idea, Noddy. Come, allow me.” He took Anne by her hand without another word, pulling her close to his side as he laughed, looking behind her at Julian, who she no doubt guessed was fuming at his insistence, though Anne was more concerned with the Count walking away with her while the Countess followed behind them, though at face value, she seemed completely undisturbed by his arrogance with a stranger.

She felt out of place beside him, his rich clothing and demeanor in comparison to her dark and modest clothing was obvious to anyone, and yet he cared nothing about it, immediately enraptured with her attention.

“Anne, was it? How do you find the palace? Is it your first time here?” His cologne was intoxicating, smelling richly of pepper and lemons.

“Yes, my lord.”

“‘My Lord’ sounds stuffy, I don’t like it. Call me Lucio.”

“Ok... Lucio.” She tried to smile, but she just felt so nervous.

They walked through the halls, her following his lead as he lead them to a red and golden dining room, the servant already hurrying with dishes and glasses as the long table was sat.

“Anne, sit next to me, will you? I’d be terribly bored otherwise, and that’s no fun for anyone, am I right, Noddy?”

She rolled her eyes, taking a drink of her freshly poured white wine as she sat on the other side of the table, with Lucio sitting at the head of the table, but not before ensuring Anne was seated close beside him.

Anne met Julian’s gaze as he sat beside the Countess. He was clearly uncomfortable, but not because of the company. In fact, he seemed to know both of them rather well, and she tried to guess as to... how he’d have met either them.

As a servant poured a red wine for Lucio, he nodded towards her to the servant, who quietly took her glass and filled it with the same red wine that he was served.

“Lucio, you don’t know if she even likes wine...”

“Nonsense, Noddy, if she doesn’t, it’s only because she hasn’t had any fine enough for her palette, right Anne?”

The Countess raised her eyebrows at Lucio, looking at me expectantly for an answer. Julian cleared his throat loudly, accepting a cup of strong coffee.

“I’m grateful to both of you for whatever generosity you might share with me.”

“Oh Anne, you are allowed to speak freely here, and if you would care for something other than wine, you need only say so.” She glared at Lucio, daring him to challenge her, but he stayed silent, slightly sulking in his chair as he sipped his wine, servants placing plates of hot food in front of them.

Anne did her best to smile and appear confident, “Countess, I’m delighted to share a glass of wine with you, and thank you for being so gracious to me. I hardly expected when I woke up this morning that I’d be sharing a meal with the Count and Countess of Vesuvia.”

“Yes, well, cheers then to you, Anne.” Lucio lifted his glass to her, and she returned the gesture as gracefully as she could, before taking her first sip of the wine, and she was hit with a heavy mix of blueberries, plums, and tobacco. It was incredibly strong, but with the eyes of everyone around her, she didn’t dare risk showing or saying anything that could be interpreted as negative.

“So what do you think? Is it not one of the best wines you’ve ever had?”

She swirled the wine in her glass, “I’ve admittedly never had anything like it... It’s far more expensive than anything I’ve even had the opportunity to taste.” She took another sip of it, and this time it went down much smoother than before, now knowing what to expect once it touched her tongue.

Lucio grinned ear to ear, looking at his wife as if he’d just won an argument, and she felt uneasy about being the source of any spat between a couple, let alone this particular couple.

Though the tension in the room could’ve been cut by a knife, Lucio prevented the chance for any awkward silence to take place, though his attention was solely on her. If she was being honest with herself, she would feel flattered at the idea of holding the Count’s attention as much as she was, were she not also sitting with his wife and Julian.

_Didn’t stop Lucio, however._

“Anne, I’m throwing a private little party tonight for me and my closest friends. You’ll come, won’t you?” He finished his second glass of wine, his non golden hand reaching for hers, his thumb gently stroking her skin as he spoke.

“I... uh...” She looked at Julian, desperate for some form of feedback from him, as he’d been mostly quiet since they entered the dining hall. But he was stone faced, aside from the seething anger in his eyes that no one else seemed to notice, or rather, care to comment on.

“He may be your master, Anne, but he’s not the boss of me.” He smiled brightly at her, squeezing her hand before letting go.

“Nadia, my apprentice and I should be going soon, we have much to do.” His voice was so... cold in comparison to what she’d grown used to.

“Of course, Doctor. It seems we will be seeing you later, possibly.” She grew more interested in her wine, though she nodded towards Julian as he stood, respectfully bowing his head before moving to leave the room, though he waited for Anne to join him. As she was leaving however, Lucio reached for her hand a final time, pulling her knuckles to his lips tenderly, whispering something only meant for her, though she knew the others could hear.

“Till later, Anne.” She curtsied politely once he let go of her, looking her up and down greedily before watching her go, biting his bottom lip absentmindedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t help but imagine that Lucio wears cologne like Versace’s Eros Flame.


	4. Bared Emotions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic depictions of gore, body horror, and death

_Gods, she hoped that she didn’t ever have to itch any part of her body in this gear._

Julian had helped her tuck in any loose fabric, gloves painfully tight, her hair tied back and wrapped in a skintight hood, exposing only her face as he tucked another scarf into her overcoat.

“Is this really necessary, Julian?”

“Yes, unfortunately, it is. We don’t know how this plague spreads yet, so we will be taking every possible precaution that we can.”

He didn’t say anything more than that, and it worried her. Since their... unexpected lunch, Julian had been as quiet as a mouse, the first words he’d spoken were to let her know that they’d be caring for plague victims in the city, or house calls, as he called them.

However, even though she’d only known him for a short time, she could tell something was bothering him, but this was neither the time nor the place, not with as many doctors around them as there were.

“Well if I have to be this covered, so do you.”

“Naturally, I’m just making sure you’re done first before I am. I can get dressed by myself.”

“Ha, and here I thought you just wanted an excuse to touch me.”

He blushed, leaning in so that only she could hear him, “I hardly need an excuse to touch you, _milaya_.”

“What did you say?”

He picked up a crow mask, packing it full of pleasant smelling herbs, before walking behind her, his body pressed close to hers as he placed the mask on her, tying it tightly behind her head.

It was hot in the mask, and she struggled to see at first, though she adjusted, with her main complaint being the overpowering smell of rosemary and thyme. Beautiful smelling when used in cooking, not so pleasant when it was all you could smell.

She turned to look at Julian, not knowing the size of the mask as she bumped him with her beak, an amused smile disappearing as he put on his own mask, a stark white in comparison to her black one. He pressed on the mask extra hard, suctioning it to his face before pushing his hair back into his own hood, making sure none of his curls escaped from beneath it, tying it tightly underneath his chin.

“Cute, but Julian, what did you say earlier?”

He struck a dashing pose, laughing.

“Come, we’ve little daylight.”

“ _Julian_...”

_____________

“My dear, a moment.” Before the approached the house in question, Julian took her gently by the elbow, stopping her from going any further.

“Yes?”

“I want you to be ready when you walk in there. You said so yourself, you’re no doctor, and... I warn you, this field is not for the feint of heart. It’s bloody, tragic, and gory. Are you sure you want to go in there, still?”

She couldn’t see his face, but his voice was laced with genuine concern.

“I would not have come to the palace had I not been serious about my commitments.” She steeled herself, trying to psych herself up for what may be in that house.

“I believe you, Anne, but I cannot stress this enough,” he lowered himself down to her height, his hands moving to both her shoulders, “it is much different once you’ve seen a fresh corpse, or worse, when you’ve failed to save someone’s life and you hear the wail of their loved ones. Nothing could ever prepare you for that.”

She looked down, disheartened, but still committed to her chosen path.

“I have to try. I want to help, to learn how to heal.”

“I know, and I’ll be here the entire time to show you how to.” He squeezed her shoulders tightly before letting go.

“I’ll take the lead, and if anything gets to be too much, don’t be ashamed if you need to leave.”

She nodded, understanding. She followed close behind him, waiting as he knocked on the thin wooden door, and it creaked opens this featherlight knocks, not even locked in the slightest.

A shaky cough came from inside, trying to speak but they could barely speak through their ragged coughs.

Julian took a step in the house cautiously, “Hello?”

They took a few steps in, calming searching for anyone in the house. By the looks of it, she would’ve guessed no one had been living here for a while, with the entire house dark except for what sunlight could peak through the windows. That’s when she heard the strained wheezing of someone breathing in a small room, and she waved Julian over so he could see.

Two people were laying on a bed while curled around each other, and if she had to guess, it was a mother and her young son. The son was still, while the mother hacked and wheezed, whispering something to her son.

Julian approached her calmly, kneeling down by her side as he reached for the bag he’d brought with him, pulling out a two skins containing some form of liquid and some bandages, as well as a jar filled with leeches, and a tiny knife and pair of scissors. She moved to the other side of the bed to check on the child, not knowing what she could do and she nearly vomited at the sight of him.

He’d been turned away from them when they’d walked in, but he’d long been dead, his body swollen and bloated, making him look inhuman while the bottom side of his face was covered in dried blood, while something other than blood was still oozing out of his nose and mouth.

She had to look away, coughing and thankful that she couldn’t smell what she’d seen. While she tried to gain her composure, Julian turned the mother away from her son, trying to get her to sip some water out of a skin.

“Anne, grab the scissors.” She moved back to Julian, taking the scissors from beside his knee.

“Cut her shirt off, and soak some rags with water from the other skin, she’s burning with a fever.”

Anne cut away what she could, trying not to move her at all as she removed the soaked clothing, it being drenched with sweat. Eventually, Julian gave up trying to get her to drink, as she kept speaking deliriously.

“My... Henry? Who are you? I can’t... I need to leave soon.” She struggled to speak, her words barely a whisper and they took everything in her. Anne soaked the rags without spilling water everywhere, taking time to spin the rag in the air to cool them slightly in the hot Vesuvian summer before putting them across her torso, hoping it wouldn’t shock her to feel something so cold. She needn’t have worried, though, as the poor woman wasn’t even aware of her decaying child, let alone a chilled rag over her extremely fragile chest, her ribs prominent.

“She’s in the final stages of the disease, it won’t be long now for her.”

“Is there nothing that we can do for her?”

He shakes his head, looking at the woman as she reached for nonexistent... things in the air.

“If there’s an effective treatment out there, I don’t know it. All we can do for her is ease her pain; minimize suffering with anything to stop the pain, or let her fall into a peaceful sleep where she’ll die.”

Anne had never helped someone die, never been present for something like that, but even with the horror in front of her, she kept telling herself the same thing over and over.

_You’re here to help her. You’re strong enough to stay and help her. She needs you._

“Ok... Ok. What can I do?”

He sighed, “I can give her a high dosage of poppy, she’ll be able sleep and won’t convulse, but it’ll kill her, more than likely. Otherwise it’ll take perhaps another day of her being like this before she eventually dies.”

She felt sick to her stomach. To end the suffering and damn her conscience, or let this woman suffer unnecessarily from a plague with no cure, only to be able to say she never killed a patient by her own hand. The room suddenly felt heavier.

“You needn’t stay, Anne, this is harsh even for the most veteran of Doctors.”

“No, I need to stay; to see this. She doesn’t deserve to die alone.”

Julian sat next to the dying woman on the bed, and she gripped his jacket with a death grip, starting to convulse involuntarily, though she didn’t say anything, just clenching her mouth tightly as her whole body stiffened, relaxing, and stiffening again. Anne got as close as she could, prying her hand off of Julian and letting her squeeze her own, eyes fluttering as she groaned in pain in between hyperventilating with a strained, yet involuntary effort.

A dark bottle appeared in Julian’s hand, and he popped the cork out of it, gently holding the woman’s head with one hand, waiting for her to work through her body seizing. In the meantime, both she and Julian sat quietly together, using their hands to comfort her and try and let her know that she wasn’t alone through their touch alone.

It took a few minutes, but once she’d calmed down and no longer convulsed, Julian tilted her head forward, opening her mouth enough to have her drink some of the poppy. He gave a small amount at a time, in part because he didn’t want her to choke on the poppy, but also because she kept mumbling and looking around, unable to focus long enough for a large sip.

It took some time, but eventually, Julian stopped giving her the poppy, recorking it after he gently laid her head back on the bed.

“How long?”

“It always varies. She doesn’t look like she’s eaten in a long while, so probably not long. Maybe an hour.”

Eventually, she closed her eyes, her grip on Anne’s hand gone, but Julian didn’t move from her side.

“It’s when she stops breathing that we can safely know she’s passed.”

So they waited, and waited. Occasionally, a breeze would pass through the house from the front door, but that was the only sound in the room once her pained breathing stopped.

Anne gave a shaky breath as she let go of the woman’s hand, standing without another word, opening and closing her hands. She felt like she’d just been running, her body shaky and jittery; full of adrenaline.

_Keep it together. Breathe._

She heard Julian putting away his supplies, and didn’t move when she felt his hand touch her arm.

“We can leave now. I’ll let the body collectors know at the palace to come by here when we get back.”

Her shoulders sank, nodding.

“Come, my dear, let’s leave.”

_____________

Once at the palace, night had fallen, and she’d been lead to a side room by Julian after he had words with a few men. The room was small, with a small wooden tub with a small spigot, a table covered in rags and a wicker basket, and at the center of the room, a small drain in the floor. She watched Julian close the door, locking it, before undoing his mask finally, pulling his hood down. She could see where the mask had left deep, red lines around his face.

He undid her mask for her, and for the first time in hours, she smelled something other than those herbs and she got a little overwhelmed by the lack of it, though she resisted from gulping down the fresh air. She pulled off her hood, tossing it on the table before frantically pulling at her clothes, needing to be put of them, but they refused to come off as quickly as she needed them to. She began to panic, her emotions finally overtaking her, and Julian picked her up in his arms, holding her tightly against his chest, as she began to sob, hyperventilating with hot tears running down her face. She didn’t say anything, didn’t want to, and neither did he, just holding her tightly as she clung to him. She felt her heart beating out of her chest, chest aching. He set her up on the table only when she was ready to let go.

She continued to cry, eyes swollen and red, and she could hear water coming from the spigot and filling the tub. Gentle but sure hands moved over her, undoing buckles and knots, pulling off her gloves, boots, the layers of clothing piece by piece, until she was in nothing but her undershirt and pants. All of her belongings were tossed into the basket by the door, and soon after he’d finished helping her, Julian had stripped down to nothing but his pants and white shirt before coming back to her.

“We need to take all your clothes off, to wash you. Is that ok?”

She nodded, wiping away the tears that stung, still struggling to get her breathing under control.

He peeled off her shirt, and accepted her clothes once she’d shifted out of her pants, and she felt a bit shy in front of him for some reason, fully naked, despite the fact they’d been intimate since the start, but he didn’t act inappropriately with her, and was completely respectful of how vulnerable she was.

It made her smile, even though she was still a mess. Julian took a rag, a bar of soap, and doused both in the tub, turning off the water. He sighed, clearly frustrated.

“What’s wrong?” She slid off the table, standing beside him.

“The water’s cold, I’m sorry.” He frowned deeply, but she smiled.

“You forget, Julian,” She closed her eyes, holding her hands together and internally felt the heat of a crackling fire, then the image of boiling water filled her mind, “... I’m a magician.”

She held her hands in the water, and within a few moments, she could feel both the water get hot and the steam coming off of it as she opened her eyes, seeing the sheer astonishment on Julian’s face.

“How... how is that possible? What?” He dipped his fingers in the water, shocked to find that he water was impossibly warm in mere seconds.

“Ha, I have some tricks up my sleeve.” She felt as tired as she sounded, and a warm hand rubbed her back.

“Here,” he held a the soap and rag to her, “are you able to scrub yourself down?”

“Yeah... thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll be standing behind you, scrubbing away at myself, if you need me.”

She began washing away at her skin, the rough rag uncomfortable as it scraped against her skin, but she did all that she could to get every inch of her body, in every curve, between every tiny space. It was tedious work, and she felt drained with each minute that passed. After she was sure she’d covered her body in suds, she stepped into the extremely small tub, needing to tuck her knees in slightly in order to fit, but the hot water took off a layer of stress she’d been carrying for the last few hours. She relaxed into the water, head laid back as she wiped her face with the water, smoothing down her hair that was still up in a bun. She didn’t want to deal with the hassle of combing out her hair with her fingers here in this small room.

She opened one eye to check on Julian, his naked body covered with a thin layer of soap, catching her eyes with his own, and he blushed.

“Ah, did I miss a spot?”

She smiled, “Oh no, just admiring the view.”

He gave her a sheepish smile, coming over to her as he dipped as much of his arms in the tub as he could, splashing water on his shoulders, rinsing himself as best he could.

“I’m so relieved to see you smiling.” She shifted in the tub, turning to him, but she didn’t say anything.

“I’m... sorry for today. I realize I shouldn’t have taken you today. We should’ve started with something easier, I should’ve been more careful...”

“Julian, please, don’t.” She took one of his hands with both of hers, massaging it under the water.

“ _Anne_...”

“I asked for this, Julian.”

“You didn’t know what that meant, and I did, and I didn’t-”

“Julian _please_.” She felt herself tearing up again, and she tried to catch her tears before they fell.

He covered his free hand with hers on her cheek, bringing her other hand to his lips with a chaste kiss on the back of it, lingering.

“Thank you, for earlier. When I... kind of freaked out.”

He smiled into her hand, “No need to thank me for being there for you.”

She rolled onto her knees, letting go of his hands for a moment, only to take them again as she huddled close to the side of the tub closest to him. Close enough to kiss his bare shoulder as she did.

“Is it because I’m your... _apprentice_?” She smiled teasingly, and he rolled his eyes, groaning.

“Don’t blame me for coming up with that on the spot, I had no idea that Lucio would be coming right around the corner...”

“Speaking of, how do you know him?”

“Who says I _do_ know him?”

“Oh so you’re just insane and enjoy sassing the most powerful man in Vesuvia? Just for fun?”

He grimaced, “... Well, yes, but that’s besides the point. I actually knew Lucio back when he was a mercenary, though he was still a young man then. I’m actually the one who... amputated his arm for him.”

“ _What_? You cut off his arm? Where was this?”

“Not like I had much of a choice, we were all the way in Prakra, in the middle of _nowhere_ , and I was apprenticing as a combat medic at the time...”

A sharp few knocks came from the door, “Got people waiting, finish up.”

With a small groan she stood in the tub, getting out of it while waving Julian in.

“Hurry up!”

Julian comically tried to rinse himself off in the tub, which was all the more smaller with his large frame inside of it. She cupped water in her hands to help, but he did most of the work, before getting out, pulling the plug to the tub’s drain.

In record time, they’d dried themselves off and wrapped each other in towels before grabbing their basket full of contaminated clothes, hurrying past the other doctors, his body shielding any prying eyes she might’ve been uncomfortable with.

_____________

Searching for clothes amidst the shared laundry of the doctors had been an adventure, and she’d managed to find a long sleeved shirt and smock, though it was terribly long and she had to tuck a portion of her skirt in her waist to keep from tripping. It would do for the time being, at least until their clothes had been cleaned and dried, ready to wear again.

Presently, she was wandering around the palace, enjoying the opportunity to explore for once without the halls being lined with servants and nobles alike. Julian had opted to stay underground, but had encouraged her to go on without him. He’d said it was only because she should get to see the place, but she knew that he was really telling her to take the night off after the events of the day. She’d wanted to argue, but not as much as she genuinely wanted to see what the palace had to offer.

It was massive, and she’d admittedly gotten lost once or twice, before moving upstairs, admiring the art the lined the walls. She didn’t recognize half of the people, but there were several portraits of Lucio lining the halls upstairs, and while walking down the hall, she heard the sound of a bottle being smashed, followed by a loud cheer coming from several people in a room.

She knew better, but curiosity got the better of her as she crept closer, being as silent as possible as she tried to eavesdrop through the door. Sounds of a party in full swing came through the door, and she closed her eyes painfully, remembering the very personal invitation by Lucio to this party.

_What an idiot... forgetting what would’ve been any other girl’s dream._

She looked down at herself, not even close to being dressed for such a party, stepping away from the door and turning to leave.

“Anniiiiieeeee!” 

She jumped, looking to the source of her name being called, seeing a very drunk and disheveled Lucio coming from another set of rooms still getting dressed from... something. His shirt was wide open, exposing his chest, eye makeup smeared, and he walked with a light stumble as he laced up his pants. He seemed to be alone, but she still curtsied at his arrival.

“Oh stop that, I didn’t think you’d make it. Why are you so late?” He leaned against the wall next to her, the smell of tobacco and wine clinging to him, eyeing her up and down.

“Duty calls.” She leaned against the wall beside him, internally laughing at his very drunken state.

“Sounds boring. You should stop and come with _me_ , I promise I’m much more fun.” He twisted a finger around the collar of her smock, pulling at the fabric while grinning ear to ear.

“Lucio, I shouldn’t, I’m barely dressed...”

He bit his bottom lip, eyes following the curve of her neck, “I don’t care about what you’re wearing, Annie, I could order a hundred dresses for you, if you wanted.” He let go of her smock, pulling her close to his side, moving towards the door, his breath hot on her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

“Let me spoil you. Wine? Jewels? Passion? Ask, and it is yours.”

“Lucio, we shouldn’t, what if someone sees us like this...” she looked down at how close he was, his lips brushing against her neck.

“Who cares if they _do_?” He backed her into the wall with a single look, pressing his body against hers, a golden arm coming above her, twirling a strand of her hair. His other hand played with the strings of her undershirt, not undoing them, but dangerously close.

“What would they say to me? Would they dare chide _me_ for spending time in your company? Or perhaps,” he bumped his nose with hers, his canines bared, “you think with you’re not worthy to be seen on my arm? Without the furs and glittering gems of nobility, you feel as if you don’t belong at my side?”

She was silent, looking away from his face, cheeks burning hot.

_Something like that._

The hand fiddling with her shirt sharply grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him, his eyes burning into her.

“You are worthy because I _say_ so.”

She felt her knees go weak, a gasp escaping her as he growled those words at her.

“I’m a picky man, Annie. I only demand the best,” he turned her head, exposing her neck as he planted a kiss on her neck, and she ran her hands up his chest, burying her fingers in the fur lining of cape, “... and I don’t have the patience to be interested in people who aren’t on my level.”

He nipped her neck before backing off, leaving her panting and breathless.

“Now, _come_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Milaya = милая 
> 
> Roughly means dear, darling, loved one, commonly used to refer to one’s romantic partner


	5. Blood Wine

She felt the eyes of the room on her as Lucio entered, music playing loud, his hand casually around her waist as he guided her through the room. He paid them no mind, however, kissing her hand affectionately as he walked, as if she were a prize he’d finally won, showing her off to anyone that’d look.

The room was large, with smaller cliques of people drinking, talking, and otherwise lounging about without a care in the world.

... _and he considered this a private party._

The room reeked of expensive alcohol, with servants dressed in revealing costumes waiting to refill drinks with wine at a moments notice, some even holding bowls of fruit.

The crowd parted for the two of them as he led her to a blood red loveseat seated at the back of the room, almost at a vantage point for the rest of the room as it as raised on a slight dais. Lucio immediately lounged on it, one leg spread over the rest of it as he patted the space between his thighs.

“Here.” He tugged on her hand, beckoning her to crawl into his lap, slowly easing her between his legs as she leaned back into him. He kissed her fingertips playfully, giggling at her growing blush.

“You’ve no shame, do you?”

“Why be ashamed at something we both enjoy?” He placed her hand on his bare chest, taking time to examine her hair, and she felt a talon coming up to the tie that held it all together as he lightly tugged at it.

He grinned sinfully, and with a sharp snap, her hair sprang loose from he bun, and she waited patiently as he combed his fingers through her hair, surprisingly gentle with his claws on her scalp.

The sensation of her hair being played with, which had been tied up all day, made her moan, though no one else but him could hear her. She tried to lean into his touch, wanting more, but as soon as she did, he pulled away just enough to annoy her.

“Do you like that?”

“I _was_ , before you moved away.” He snickered, clearly enjoying himself. He snapped his fingers before two servants approached them, one placing two wine cups and the other placing a bowl of pomegranates on the table beside them.

Anne waited, not wanting to assume too much and reach for something she wasn’t supposed to. Lucio pulled a small knife from underneath the waistline of his pants, taking a pomegranate and cutting it open with practiced ease.

Once opened, he cut off two main sections, setting the rest aside, handing her one.

“Have you ever had a pomegranate before?”

“A few times. Only on special occasions, though.”

She also knew they were incredibly messy to eat, and she didn’t want to eat over him for that very reason.

He bit into the pocket of seeds, not caring at all when the dark, bitter juice dripped down his chin and onto his chest, and deciding to match his arrogance for a change, she bit into her own tart piece, being a little messy on purpose so that she could match him, juice running down her throat slowly.

“There we go, _that’s_ what I want to see...” He firmly gripped her by the back of her head, bringing her closer so that he could lick the trailing juice from her throat to the corner of her mouth, “I want you to take whatever you want from me,” a featherlight kiss on her jaw, “... I want you to to indulge in whatever you think is forbidden.”

“Lucio...” she sighed, forgetting where she was for a moment.

“Mmm say my name again, just like that.”

She laughed gently, “Lucio, you’re spoiling me.”

“That’s the idea.” He let go of her hair, moving his hand behind her neck, guiding her to more more on top of him, her weight almost fully on him as he slid himself further underneath her, his head resting on the armrest.

“Tell me something, Lucio...” she stroked his hair, and he all but purred his response.

“Keep doing that and I’ll tell you whatever you’d like.”

“What about me manages to intrigue you so much?”

“Intrigue me?”

“Come on, Lucio, there are plenty of beautiful men and women in this room, and yet you manage to attach yourself to me almost immediately, or am I just something new, and you’ve actually just secretly bedded most of the people in this room?”

He grinned, sinfully mischievous.

“My sweet Annie, I do what I want, when I want. You may not see it yet, but most of the people in this room are old, complacent, and boring. They bore me to no end, and I hate it.”

She rolled her eyes, “You didn’t actually answer my question, though.”

“Didn’t I?”

“Lucio...” she smirked down at him, and she was taken by surprise as he captured her mouth with his, rough and and to the point, but she didn’t mind. She could taste the wine and pomegranates on his tongue as he forced it in her mouth, her hands grasping at his shirt.

They broke apart, catching a quick breath, before colliding together once more, his whole body wrapping around her as they tasted each other.

Hushed laughter broke her from her reverie, and she caught sight of a group of laughing women around a tall man with a long braid and a wine glass who gave her a glare unlike any she’d seen thus far.

Lucio noticed immediately that she was no longer focused on him, pouting.

“What is it?”

“There’s someone watching us.”

“Mmm that’s hot, let’s give them a show...”

“Lucio, stop it.” He really pouted then, but obediently held back as he craned his neck to see where she was looking.

“Oh, _oops_.”

“Who is that?”

“Nobody you need to worry about, now come back and kiss me, pretty please?” He pulled her shirt lower, trying to bury his face in her chest, but whoever the man was, he immediately pushed past the other guests, heading straight for them.

“Lucio, he’s on his way over here.” She tried to sit up, to get off of him, but Lucio held her firmly in place.

“No. I don’t want you to leave. Stay put.” She obeyed, but she couldn’t help but watch the man approach them until he was a few steps away.

With an overly exasperated sigh, Lucio spoke, “ _Yes_ , Consul?”

“Count Lucio. Enjoying yourself?”

“I always am.” He bit her neck then, hard enough that she gasped, moaning even as she tried to hide it behind her hand, overly embarrassed.

“Is she not the cutest thing, Consul? Just look at her, the slightest nip and she just melts in my arms.”

He couldn’t have been frowning harder, distaste clear as day, the venom in his voice palpable.

“ _Quite_. Now, if you’re done whoring around, I need to speak with you.”

Julian whined, “Later, Valerius. I’m having fun right now.”

“I said I need to speak with you, Count. Now. It wasn’t a suggestion.”

Lucio glared at the Consul, making a show of how inconvenienced he was as he slid from underneath her, but making sure to passionately and loudly make a show of kissing her before leaving.

“I’ll be back, and don’t forget,” his hand wrapped around her throat, “anything you want, you need only ask.”

She smiled, leaning back into the seat as he walked as slowly as he could after the Consul, clearly just trying to piss him off further as they walked out of the room.

The moment the door closed, she reached for the wine glass, and was immediately approached by an older man, clearly drunk as he sat on the seat beside her, already uncomfortably close. He reeked of bourbon, and when he spoke, his speech was slurred.

“Such a pretty... _pretty_ girl, aren’t you? I’ve never seen you before, perhaps if I had, you’d be snug against me instead of our dear Count, no?”

She shrugged off his hand as soon as he touched her, “Keep your hands off me, please.”

“So loyal, how refreshing. Is it because he’s rich? You trying to get a bastard out of him?”

She tried not to look at him, leaning away from his sour breath as he pushed himself closer and closer, his body pressed against her.

“I’m not interested in discussing that with you.”

“Oh, really? Perhaps I’ll be as bold as the Count, then, you seemed to like it only a few minutes ago.”

He roughly grabbed at her clothes, so much so that he tore her collar open with a loud rip, trying to put his mouth on her neck, but she immediately called a burning, hot iron flame in her hands, touching his face as quickly as he’d tried to harass her.

He howled in pain, the music stopping suddenly and all the remaining guests either gasping or going silent. He glared at me through his fingers, and as he removed his hands from his face, prints of where her hands had burned his face and throat remained, evidence of his offense, but he didn’t stop there.

“You stupid bitch!” He swung at her, striking her cheek and nose, and she felt her nose split, dropping her wine to grab at her freshly bleeding wound, trying to cover her head.

She hadn’t heard anyone approach them, but she nearly jumped over the back of the loveseat when she heard the crack of a knuckle on a skull, peering through her fingers as she watched Lucio appear from nowhere, now bloodying her assailant with blow after blow, busting his nose, splitting his lip, only stopping after he’d head butted the man two more times, throwing him to the ground and off the raised dais.

“ _ **HOW DARE YOU?!**_ ”

Anne was paralyzed with fear, watching it all unfold. Lucio’s fists where covered in the man’s blood, his chest heaving in anger, the whole room shocked into silence, and the man laid on the ground, barely conscious as his face was rendered unrecognizable.

Lucio stood over the man, grabbing him by his lapel, and lifted him up just enough for him to look Lucio in the eyes. He spoke to the man in such a quiet tone, that Anne couldn’t hear him from where she was, but it was enough to make the man beg for mercy as Lucio dropped him, guards coming forward to drag him from the room as he screamed and kicked.

He scanned the crowd, commanding the room with a tangible fear, until he turned while waving his hand towards the band, signaling them to resume playing, the lead violin striking a cord as he looked at her, a feral smile on his face.

In less than a few steps, he walked over and scooped her up in his arms, completely bridal style, carrying her out of the room and into the first room she saw him leave before, which she could only guess was his bedroom. It was dark, crimson, and warm as hell with a roaring fire going inside.

He laid her on the bed, and for all his bravado right now, and as much as he was excited for the chance to beat the shit out of someone, she still sat there immobilized, her nose simply stinging from the air alone. She couldn’t bring herself to react at all, the shock of it all consuming her.

“Annie, are you listening?”

“What? I’m sorry, Lucio, I didn’t hear you.” He rolled his eyes, impatient.

“I asked how your nose was. Let me see it.”

She tried to get up, covering her nose, wanting to find a mirror first.

“No, Lucio, it’s fine, I’ll just-”

Lucio firmly held her still with a calm hand on her chest, sliding up to her neck as he spoke.

“Let. Me. See it.” 

She dropped her hand, letting him see the entirety of her injury, and she grit her teeth slightly, trying to stay still for him as he looked.

“This should’ve never happened. I’m... sorry.” He looked embarrassed, or what she thought would’ve been embarrassment on him, she wasn’t sure, having never seen it before.

“It’s not your fault. Besides... you _DID_ come to my rescue.”

He beamed at her, “I was rather dashing, wasn’t I?”

“Very much so, haha owwww...” she groaned, her cheek feeling heavily bruised and aching when she laughed.

“Lucio, I need to go... deal with this.”

“I’ll send for a physician, then.”

“No, I mean, I’m perfectly capable of handling this on my own, and I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I just want to... go home, for the night.”

He huffed loudly, annoyed and on the verge of throwing a minor fit, but he took his hand back, moving out of her way.

“Very well, then. I’d like to make this up to you, later.” He looked away from her, and this time, she definitely knew he was feeling bashful, an actual blush touching his cheeks.

“Goodnight, Lucio.”

“... Night, Annie.”

_____________

She didn’t bother going underground in search of her clothes, not with how warm Vesuvian nights were in the summer, and the walk home was quiet. It took a while, but as soon as she saw the front door to her shop, she felt this... incredible wave of emotion flow over her, and she couldn’t move fast enough as she found the spare key to the shop, hidden discreetly, and unlocked the door, taking a step inside to a dark and quiet building.


	6. Red Velvet

The shop was quiet, smelling of cinnamon and nutmeg, and she could feel this... invisible weight lift of her shoulders as she moved further in, locking to door and creating a small ball of light so that she could see.

The shop was warm, the stove salamander clearly awake, and she admittedly expected to find Asra asleep in their bed, but he wasn’t home, but she laughed as Faust slithered across her feet, curling around her leg affectionately, her little tongue flicking.

“Hey, Faust, I missed you...” She let Faust climb up her leg, letting her use her arm to slide up around her shoulders, and she focused on her nose, still aching.

“Friend hurt.”

She sighed, gently stroking Faust’s lavender scales as she sat in front of her bedroom mirror, finally getting a look at her face.

“How?”

Anne let out a shaking breath, her body starting to tremble as she looked at her face, blood drying unevenly now, but it’d gone all down her face, and covered her shirt, which was torn at the seam of the shoulder, exposing her shoulder. She shook her hands, trying to distract herselfand maintain her composure so she could try and fix this.

Moving easily, her glowing light followed her around the shop as she found a bowl and a dark, soft piece of cloth, which ended up being an old shirt of hers, and filled the bowl with some water.

Turning the water warm with her hands, she sat in front of the mirror again and she felt Faust tighten around her shoulder, trying to comfort her as she began cleaning her face, still abounding her nose. She winced at her skin pulling at all, so she tried to go slower, pressing a little harder to soak the caked on blood enough to come off, powering through the hot tears brimming in her eyes, her cheek so terribly bruised now.

What blood didn’t get on the cloth flowed down her face and neck, though watered down, and she repeated this process, dousing and squeezing the rag in the bowl, wiping her face, until she was forced to address her nose. It’d been literally split, her left nostril ripped from the man’s knuckles striking her, and she couldn’t breath out of it anymore, the whole nostril swollen and angry. She took a deep breath, holding it as she brought the rag to her nose, and she almost yelled, groaning loudly through clenched teeth as her nose burned, the barest touch of the rag screaming in pain.

Knowing she had to clean it or else it’d get infected, but she could barely touch it herself without stopping, and looking at herself, she felt as weak as she looked, with her nose and bruise that got darker as the time passed.

Peeling Faust off of her, she held her in a tight hug against her chest before setting her on the bed.

“I’m leaving, Faust, but... tell Asra that I miss him and that I hope he’s staying safe.”

“Asra misses you.” She coiled around herself atop the coverlet, burrowing.

“... I miss him, too.”

She cleaned up the bowl and rag before locking up the shop, now wrapped in a scarf that hid her bloody, torn shirt and untreated wound.  
  


_____________

She knocked on the door in the alley that held Julian’s clinic, hoping he was home and not still at the palace.

_Please be home._

She heard Brundle through the door, sniffing loudly at the bottom, occasionally scratching at the door and whining.

“Hey, Brundle, how are you?” She whispered, putting her fingers near the bottom, and she could hear more sniffing, then Brundle began barking and whining more insistently.

“Brundle, girl, what’s wrong?” Julian’s voice came from inside, his voice heavy with sleep. She knocked more loudly, the door immediately being opened and Julian’s eyes going wide at the sight of her.

“Anne! Where were you? What happened?” He pulled her inside, pulling away the scarf on her head so he could see her face, shaking his head.

“Come here, sit down. How bad does it hurt?”

He cleared a wooden chair for her to sit, moving about, washing his hands, checking labels on jars and vials, and stuffing a leather case and a bottle of clear liquid under his arm, sitting beside her in another chair.

“Badly. I tried cleaning it and I can barely touch it without being forced to stop.”

He handed her the bottle after he soaked a rag in it, “Start drinking. This’ll hurt.”

She tried taking a sip and gagged, the clear liquid clearly alcoholic and disgusting.

“Julian, I can’t drink this.”

“Then put this in your mouth, bite down when it hurts.” He handed her a balled up, clean rag, and she waited, clenching the seat of her chair with white knuckles.

She stiffened when Julian held her head tightly by her jaw, wiping at her nose, and she screamed in pain, but the rag muffled it dramatically. She clenched down on the rag, trying to focus on the pain from that rather than the sharp burning pain of Julian wiping at her nose.

He moved away, and just when she felt she could breathe, he was back again, her eyes rolling back into her head as he wiped the blood out of the inside of her nostril, and she gagged and choked from the rag and the intense smell of the briny alcohol in her nose. Tears streamed down her face, and she sobbed from it all.

“You’re doing great, Anne, halfway there.” She whimpered at him, her chest heaving as she shook from pain and anger at him for causing it, even though she knew he was helping her.

Her eyes went wide when he opened the leather case, revealing its contents to be a sharp, curved needle and extremely thin strands of something that he fed through the eye of the needle.

She spit out the rag, dry heaving for a moment, “No no no...” she went to move, but Julian put a hand on her thigh, holding it down as he leveled his eyes with hers.

“You need stitches, Anne. Without them, you risk infection, it won’t heal as quickly, it’ll leave a horrific scar, and it’ll cause you more pain in the long run.” She held a hand against his chest, like she was trying to hold him back, even though he wasn’t being cruel.

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

He pulled his chair close to hers, and she shoved the rag back in her mouth, doing her best not to gag at the dryness of it.

“I know this is impossible to ask for, but try not to move. It’ll hurt less and be over sooner if you do.” Anne turned towards him, wrapping her legs around his, gripping his thigh with her hands.

She couldn’t help but be scared, and she took a final breath before closing her eyes, still crying.

“I’m sorry...”

_____________

She sat in the corner of his bed, now holding Brundle close, her eyes puffy and dressed in one of Julian’s shirts. She was still coming down from it all, but didn’t flinch when Julian came up next to her, checking her stitches.

“Do you feel them anymore?”

She shook her head, sniffling as she clung to Brundle. After the stitches had been disinfected, Julian had rubbed some kind of ointment that numbed the area completely, but he couldn’t do anything for her all of her bruising, just the parts next to her nose.

“Anne...” he sat down on the bed facing her, “what happened? I couldn’t find you earlier, and hours later, you show up on my doorstep looking like you’d just had a fight.”

She took a long, deep breath, not looking at him, “I was wandering the palace, exploring, like I’d told you, when I got pulled into Lucio’s party.”

“Did he hurt you?” He practically growled the words, but she continued.

“No, but one of the guests did. He began hitting me when I fought back as he tried to force himself on me.”

“ _Fucking_...” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I cannot believe, wait no, I can believe that Lucio would associate with piece of shit individuals like that.”

“Lucio was actually the one to step in, though, everyone else was just watching it happen, and he... well...”

Julian’s eyes went wide, “He killed him?”

“No! No, he had him dragged off after he kept punching him in the face, and then he said he wanted to make it up to me, and I don’t know, I just left and went home for awhile.”

He sighed, rubbing Brundle a little behind the ears. They sat in silence for a while, but she felt uneasy; guilty, even.

“Julian, I...”

He sat quietly, patiently waiting and she wished, if only for a moment, that he’d do something to make her mad, just so she would feel less horrible. He smiled encouragingly at her, though, of course.

“I don’t know how to say this, Julian.”

“Take your time. You’ve been through quite the ordeal tonight, so it’s quite alright.” He moved to swipe some hair out of her eyes, but she pulled back, embarrassed, and he looked at her, confused and slightly hurt.

“I kissed him, Julian.”

“Kissed who?” He stiffed slightly, but he tried to look calm.

“Lucio. I kissed him, and I wasn’t even thinking, it just felt good, and I’m _so_ sorry.” She couldn’t even look at him, her chest aching from anxiety and guilt.

_Why did she kiss him? He’s married, for fucks’ sake Anne, and now, you may lose..._

She felt him stand off the bed quietly, and Brundle lifted her head off Anne’s lap to watch him. Anne turned to watch him put on his large coat, not even taking the time to put his arms in the sleeves, before turning to her to speak, clearing his throat roughly.

“I, uh... I’m gonna go grab a drink down at the Raven, if you need me.”

“Julian, I’m sorry, I really am, I swe-”

He waved her off, his shoulders sinking, “No need to say anything, my dear. I understand.”

She crawled out of the bed, his shirt barely reaching her mid thigh as she walked up to him, his whole body drained of energy as she came.

“I know I pale in comparison to what Lucio could offer you, but I just hoped...” he rubbed his eyes repeatedly, his breath catching in his throat, “I just hoped I’d be enough for someone like you.”

“You _are_.” She was scared to touch him, but she tried to hold his hand, but he flinched, jerking his hand back as if she’d burned him.

“It’s better this way, really. We can focus on working; on you learning the trade.”

“I know you don’t believe that. We have something real, Julian.”

“ _Had_ something, my dear.” He started to caress her cheek, but stopped as soon as he started.

He pulled away from her, stopping for a moment but not looking back before leaving his home, gently closing the door and locking it behind him without another word.

Hollow. That was how she felt, but it didn’t feel strong enough. She didn’t stop the tears, didn’t stop herself from breaking down as she wrapped herself in his blanket, clinging to his pillow as Brundle nosed at her hands, pushing her way into her arms, looking to snuggle, licking her neck.

_Such an idiot._

She was already so tired, but eventually she cried herself to sleep, holding Brundle close.

_____________

The morning light woke her once it finally shined in her eyes from the window, and she had a few minutes of peace before remembering the night before and everything that’d happened.

Sitting up in the bed, she found herself alone still with Brundle, who hadn’t moved all night. Julian’s overshirt was still laying on the floor.

_He hadn’t come back, then._

She kept his shirt on, having nothing else to wear, though the smock she’d worn last night managed to not have any blood on the lower half of it, so she tucked in the top half into the waistline, tying it tightly so that it didn’t fall down without hanging on her shoulders. She found her shoes, and tried to make something out of her hair, and while she was, she heard a small whine at her side, a wet nose at her elbow.

“Ok, sweetheart, let me just finish this braid...”

_____________

The screech of the elevator was particularly loud this morning, and the pressure in her head spiked, leaving her with a splitting headache once she exited.

She weaved between doctors, hoping to see auburn curls among them, but she didn’t.

She looked in Julian’s small cubby of an office, but he wasn’t there.

She even looked in that dreadful room filled with sleeping bodies, but she quickly knew he wasn’t there either.

She resigned herself to his office, using a box of matches to light the candle burning into a crow’s skull, closing the door and sitting in his chair, but this room felt empty without him. She opened the book she’d left here a few days ago, but after a few minutes, closed it again, frustrated and unable to focus, her mind clearly elsewhere.

She looked over his desk, taking time to look through his notes. His handwriting was awful, but given time and patience, she was able to read them.

The last few entries on the current set of notes detailing the symptoms of the red plague.

_... Early signs of the plague commonly begin with difficulty breathing, extremely prolonged fatigue, blood secreting from the mouth, and the hemorrhaging of the whites of the victims eyes..._

_... as the plague progresses, the victims develop a fever, resulting in night sweats and terrors, headaches and spasming begin, and breathing problems worsen, resulting in wheezing, and the blood no longer just comes from the mouth, but also their nose..._

_... in the later stages of the disease, fatigue dominates the patient, and they’re unable to maintain a healthy diet, becoming dehydrated and losing dangerous amounts of weight from the loss of appetite. Malnutrition and dehydration results in major disorientation and patients report experiencing a sense of vertigo..._

_... near death, patients are delirious with fever, unable to control violent episodes of spasming, and breathing issues prevent any chance of sleeping, patients eventually lose all sense of consciousness, and become unresponsive to any form of stimulus before their body eventually dies..._

_... upon further examination after death, the lungs are filled with fluid, as the disease appears to target the respiratory system..._

_... the progression of the disease, from the earliest signs to death, vary between a few days to as long as six months. Still no cure or effective treatment..._

She heard a knock at the door behind her, and she jumped up, dropping the notes on the desk and opening the door.

“Julian?”

“Doctor 083.”

Valdemar’s unnerving smile greeted her, and she didn’t even hide her disappointment.

“ _Quaestor_. How may I help you?”

“It’s not me that is asking for you. Our beloved Count has personally requested your presence. His personal servants are waiting for you in the hallway beyond the private library.”

“Oh, ok then. Thank you, Quaestor.”

They bowed their head respectfully, leaving her to join some men by a dissection table, and she made sure not to look at whatever, or whoever, was on the table. Tidying the desk behind her, she closed his office before heading upstairs.

_____________

She was escorted by a group of servants into a large bedroom with massive windows overlooking the garden, and just beneath the windows grew a large rose bush, the white petals pleasantly fragrant when a servant opened a window to her left, the warm breeze refreshing.

“My lady, his grace has graciously provided you with these accommodations for your stay here in the palace. He hopes they are to your satisfaction?”

She snapped her head at the male servant, eyes wide with astonishment.

“This room is for me? Surely not...” She quickly scanned the room, taking in the vibrant colors, gold trim on damn near everything...

“Is everything to your satisfaction?”

She barely felt her feet moving when she rounded a corner, seeing her own personal bathroom, complete with marble tile and a deep bath that was closer to a pool, another large window facing where the sunset would be able to shine directly into her rooms.

“... Yes, it is. How couldn’t it be?” She looked in disbelief as the servant smiled, bowing slightly, his hands folded behind his back.

“His grace has also provided you with several gowns for today’s schedule. If you allow it, I’ll allow his grace’s tailor to come in now, so that we might be able to size it appropriately to your figure.”

She nodded, her mouth agape when he signaled another servant to open the door, allowing a middle aged man come in, with him a small entourage carrying various dresses in with him, laying them out on the bed. The tailor snapped his fingers, and everyone but the original servant who spoke with her left.

“Did Lu-His Grace mention what he needed me for, today?”

“I believe he wished for it to be a surprise, my lady.”

“Ah... ok.”

The tailor came into her view, then, and he smiled, “My lady, what color would you prefer?”

_____________

She walked down the steps outside of the palace, lifting a heavy, red velvet skirt up so that she didn’t trip on it. The slippers the tailor had picked out for her tapped delicately on the stone with each step, and at the bottom waiting for her was Lucio, dressed handsomely in dark furs and a matching crimson suit, his golden arm blinding in the morning light. At the sight of her, he smiled devilishly, pleased at her chosen attire.

“Annie! I’m so glad to see you! Tell me,” he took her hands in his, turning them over as he tugged her closer, “do you love your rooms? I chose them specifically for you.”

She hid her bittersweet emotions well, this time, smiling brightly.

“They’re beautiful, Lucio. I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve all of... this.” She looked down at her dress, with her puffy sleeves and square cut bodice, generously showing her cleavage for anyone with eyes.

“I told you, I wanted to make up for last night,” He leaned in, pinching her chin playfully, “and that was only the start of it.”

He looked over her face, the bruising apparent and her stitches, while clean, still looked brutal, but he didn’t seem to mind beyond them simply existing.

“There’s more?”

“There’s _always_ more when you’re with me,” he kissed her cheek then, leaning in to whisper in her hear, his breath hot, “... just you wait and see.” He gently nipped the tender skin beneath her ear, causing her to gasp, and just then an ornately decorated horse-drawn carriage rolled up to them, with a man jumping off the back and opening the door, steps rolling out.

_How dramatic. Then again, this was Lucio she was talking about._

He kissed her hand, leading her to the carriage, getting in first before helping her up behind him. They sat completely flush against each other, his right arm around her shoulder, lips brushing against her ear as the door closed, the carriage moving forward quickly.

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t like ruining surprises. Instead of worrying, how about we... entertain ourselves with other things?” Her eyes roamed his body, his muscular chest exposed, and his pants tight so she could see how muscled his thighs were, as well as the imprint of his...

She blushed, looking away.

“Something the matter, Annie? Something you don’t like?”

She chuckled, opening the curtains of the carriage to watch crowds of people passing beside them. She’d never seen this much of the city before, and certainly not in a way that crowds of people watched her go by. She smiled and waved at the very few faces she managed to make eye contact with.

“Being Count has a few perks, and the love and attention that comes from it is just one of them.” He sidled close behind her, his face beside hers as she watched, but she could feel the heat of his gaze on her. He pulled the curtains open wider, so much so that they could both easily be seen by the crowd as he planted kiss after kiss from her neck to the deep plunge of her breasts, as if he enjoyed showing the whole city he wanted her.

Anne made eye contact with violet eyes surrounded by white curls under a feathered hat, and she gasped, as Asra looked at her, his whole body in shock as he saw her with the Count. Lucio hummed at her gasp, surely thinking it was for him as he began to leave a small hickey on the top of her breast, though she didn’t look away from Asra. He started to weave through the crowd, appearing and disappearing out of her view before he couldn’t keep up with the carriage and the crowd blocking him, but she knew he’d eventually find her.

“Annie, pay attention to me. Everyone else can wait.” She turned to look at him, smiling only to placate his apparent jealousy for her attention.

“Oh I don’t know, there’s a whole city out there. I don’t know how I could make everyone wait for just one person...” They both smiled, knowing the dangerous game they played, and she went very still as his golden hand gripped her by her throat, gradual pressure increasing at the sides of her throat to the point she started to feel faint, breathing quickly and deeply, her breasts feeling as if they’d spill out at any time in her dress as Lucio pulled her close to his face, his eyes dark with lust.

“Then make the time, my sweet Annie.” His lips crashed into hers, his grip tightening around her throat as she held onto his arm, struggling to stay awake until he let go suddenly, pulling away at the carriage slowed down to a stop.

“We’re here.” Almost as soon as they’d stopped, the door opened and she waited for Lucio to get out first, allowing him the privilege of being first, before stepping outside herself, to see the towering stone walls of the Coliseum. Lucio’s golden hand was open towards her, waiting for her to take it.

She took it, managing somehow to look more graceful than she felt as he guided her towards the entrance, but deep down, she felt her entire core shake.

_Blood soaked the sand here, lives judged, the crowds bloodlust satiated with each death._

She was worried, now. What surprise could be in this murderous place?


	7. Blood and Sand

She’d been brought to a shaded veranda at the bottom of the Coliseum, just above the fighting pit where fresh blood already stained the sand below her. She stood stiffly, the smell of iron being carried in the wind, her heavy skirt billowing slightly, and she felt queasy. She tried to look away, trying to focus on the plush thrones behind her. Lucio had left her for the time being, and she paced impatiently, watching the Coliseum fill with massive amounts of people.

Anne had never been to the Coliseum until now, not ever thinking it was meant for someone like her, and at the moment, she still held that belief. Not knowing what to with herself, she sat in the smaller throne, quickly looking around to make sure she wasn’t overstepping herself, but no one seemed to care. The back of it was uncomfortable and hard, and it was clearly designed for someone with longer legs, as hers dangled slightly, barely touching the ground with her toes.

It was hot, the humidity of Vesuvia getting to her in this dress. Velvet didn’t breathe, and she tried to fan herself with her hands, barely making a dent as she started to sweat. A minute later, she felt a strong gust of wind like a fan was being waved in her direction, and that’s exactly what was happening.

“Oh you don’t have to do that, it’s ok!” She gave the servant a warm smile, trying to be kind.

“His Grace would be furious with me if I didn’t do everything I could to see to your comfort, my lady.”

She frowned, uncomfortable with someone serving her at their own expense in this heat.

“Please promise me if you get too hot that you’ll stop, then.”

“I’ll be fine, my lady.” The servant smiled at her, though she could see the sweat beading on their forehead already.

Just then, Lucio returned and what small amount of emotion she saw in the servant disappeared, returning their eyes to the ground, emotionless.

_How sad._

Lucio kissed her hand tenderly, taking his place beside her as he continued to hold her hand to his lips, speaking to her.

“It’s been too long since I’ve been joined by anyone at the Coliseum, how... refreshing.”

“Does the Countess not join you?” A subtle reminder, however innocent, of his wife and Anne hid her pleasure at watching him squirm slightly.

“No... Noddy doesn’t like these things. Prakra was always boring in that way.”

“You’ve been to Prakra? What’s it like?”

Lucio glanced at his golden arm for a moment, “... Unbearably hot, dull, and full of bad memories.”

She left it at that, not wanting to push her luck. She squeezed his hand, pulling him back to the here and now beside her. He looked at her, and she was surprised at how tenderly he looked at her, a soft smile on his face that met his eyes.

“So... are you going to tell me what this surprise is? At least, more than giving me a pretty dress and a ride in your carriage.”

He looked into the arena, her eyes following his, as they watched two guards shoving the man who hit her from the other night, still in his clothes but clearly disheveled and a wreck, a measly sword in his hand, a shield tossed on top of him before the iron gate behind him closed with a loud clang. He slowly got to his feet, shaking like a leaf as he picked up his weapons, looking at Lucio and Anne.

“Mercy, Your Grace! I beg of you!” He ran towards them, standing just below them where he was only a couple feet below them, but just low enough that he had no hope of being able to jump and escape.

Anne’s blood went cold, immobilized. Lucio stood, moving just above the man, reviling as he begged for his life.

“Ah... it’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”

“My Lord, please, had I known she was your mistress, I would have never thought ill of her! I swear on my life!”

_MISTRESS!?_

Anne struggled to breathe in her bodice, it suddenly feeling very tight. Lucio laughed sinisterly, and she couldn’t see his expression as he looked down at the man.

“I’m afraid I’m not a forgiving man, Ulric, least of all when others don’t play nice with my things.. but that’s not my problem, now is it?”

The man jumped at the sound of the iron gates opening once more, and Anne was open mouthed at the absolutely massive man that walked in, ducking under the iron bars from just how tall he was. His body was scarred severely, and she struggled to see his face, with his hair long and acting as a shroud. The crowd screamed its lust for bloodshed, and they howled the man’s name.

_Scourge of the South._

Her former assailant, Ulric, screamed for help, begging Lucio, who backed away from the edge, speaking loud enough for Ulric to hear him.

“Do put on a good show, Ulric. I’d hate to be disappointed by you again, so soon.”

Anne couldn’t tear her eyes away from Ulric running from the Scourge, dropping his weapons, who quickly blocked his exit in a few steps, baring nothing but his own fists.

She felt Lucio’s lips on her cheek, kissing her, “No one is going to ever hurt you like that,” he caressed her other cheek, sure fingers turning her face towards his, “not while I still breathe and reign as Count in Vesuvia.”

She searched his eyes, overwhelmed and confused.

“I... Lucio...”

He practically purred at her saying his name, and he kissed the corner of her lips gently.

“Are you not satisfied? Is there more that I could give that would make you smile?”

She heard a man’s scream, and she turned her eyes in time to see his head being held between the Scourge’s hands, practically lifted off his feet with little difficulty for the Scourge.

“YOUR GRACE, PLEASE! NO!”

Lucio jumped out of his chair once more, snarling.

“Go on and beg, you pathetic excuse of a man! Beg me for mercy!”

His pleas for help were drowned out but the thunder of the Coliseum, and Lucio basked in it all, arms raised like a triumphant hero returned home from a war...

... but then he dropped his arms, jerking his head to the side, before he lost interest in the man’s final display, as Anne watched in complete shock and horror, as the Scourge began crushing Ulric’s skull, his silent scream the last expression on his face before she sees the pressure nearly hit a breaking point, and she closed her eyes, trying to not vomit from the sheer sight of the blood and gore. She couldn’t feel her legs, so she just tried to breathe, doing all she could to drown out the horror of the Coliseum around her, but one thought made her sick to her core.

_This was all for her._

Lucio knocked apart her knees with his, leaning forward onto his arms as they rested on either side of her, and for the first time, she was grateful for his cologne, it being strong enough to mask the scent of blood in the air.

So, she buried her face in his chest, clutching at his clothes, desperately wanting to hide, to the point she’d reach for Lucio. He, tentatively, stroked the back of her neck as she blocked out the world around her, and he didn’t say anything as she clinger to him.

When the crowd died down, she almost whispered to Lucio, her face now in the crook of his neck, “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Have I upset you?”

Her breath hitched, “... I wasn’t... I’ve never seen someone die like that. Never had someone die because of me.” She shook slightly, her adrenaline rushing in her veins.

“He deserved worse, Annie.” She looked at him then, and he looked so sure, so confident.

“What could have been worse than this? Why would he deserve worse?” She leaned into his hand holding her behind her head.

“It was bad enough that he decided to strike you,” he kissed the top of her hair, “... but even worse that he dared to harm someone that I liked.”

She looked at him then, the world finally fading away as he watched her, his eyes full with contented glee.

“Am I your mistress, then? Is that what all this is about? The dress, and the rooms...” he leaned in, kissing her passionately, tongue slipping past her lips with a moan, though she wasn’t sure who it came from between the two of them. She felt the kiss go all the way down to her core, and she shivered from pleasure, and she felt breathless when he stopped.

“He assumed too much, it’s what got him killed. No, I give you gifts because you deserve them, but as far as you becoming my... mistress,” he smiled devilishly, “... I would never be able to turn down anything you asked of me, least of all that.”

“And what if I told you no?” He sighed deeply, a moody pout on his face.

“Is that what you’re telling me?”

Julian came to her mind, her heart aching.

“... No, but I need time to think about this.” She kissed his jawline, and he huffed impatiently, but leaned away smiling at her, the intensity of his cologne leaving with him.

“Of course, and do know that... I will not do anything without your permission. However long it takes for you to decide, I can wait for you to come to me yourself.” 

She blushed, looking at the crowd that still cried out for violence.

“May we leave now?”

“As you wish, I need to see to something before we leave, but I’ll be with you shortly.”

_____________

Anne waited in the carriage for Lucio, sitting quietly until she heard a familiar voice calling out to her, and she peaked out the carriage window to see Asra being blocked from approaching her by several guards.

“Let him through.”

She sounded so strange, hearing herself order guards about, and they listened to her without a second passing, letting Asra come to her, his hands taking hers through the window. They both couldn’t help but smile cheerfully at each other.

“Anne, what are you doing with Lucio?” He looked around in disbelief, and she leaned in so that the brim of his hat hid her lips from anyone that could see, and she felt the tingle of Asra’s magic through where their fingers touched.

“No one can hear us, so please, tell me, what are you doing?”

“I wish I could tell you, cause this has all happened so fast.”

“No kidding.” He looked closely at her face, and she turned her head so he could see her stitches.

“Look, a few days ago I was working with a doctor named Julian, and since then, it’s been one thing after the other, and now I may have accidentally caught the attention of Lucio.”

He closed his eyes, taking a breath, “And what about last night? Faust told me you came back home really hurt.”

“An accident. One that ended today, apparently.” She glanced towards the large entryway, and Asra’s eyes widened.

“Did Muriel just kill the guy who did that to you?”

“Muriel? Is that the name of the really tall...? Regardless, yes, he did. Lucio had him dragged away last night, and I didn’t know that he’d be killed for hitting me.”

Asra nodded slowly, “I can’t say I’m sorry for him, not after learning what he did to you,” his eyes narrowed, “... but Anne, you cannot stay with Lucio. We cannot stay. Vesuvia isn’t safe anymore, please, leave with me.” He pulled himself closer to her, barely an inch away from her face.

“I can’t just leave, Asra. I don’t want to leave everything we’ve built.” She blinked quickly, her eyes getting misty.

“Yes you can, I can pack our things and meet you outside the palace tonight, we can put all of this behind us.”

He bumped her nose with his as he talked, and she looked into his violet eyes, swiping his white curls out of the way with her finger.

“Oh, Asra,” she held his face in her hand as his eyes pleaded with her to come with him, “... I’ve missed you so much these last few days. I’ve needed a friend more than anything else, and the palace is sorely lacking in those.”

He smiled sadly at her, giving in a little.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t been there for you. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through since we last saw each other.”

“It’s not been all bad,” she briefly remembered her first night with Julian, the way he sighed and moaned as they moved together, and she smiled bashfully, “... but it’s not been easy. I feel like I’m still trying to find my place there.”

“I know you’ll find it, you’re strong, passionate, charming...” the sounds of a small commotion coming from within the Coliseum got closer and closer, and they knew their time together was coming to an end, “... but even you need to be careful. Lucio isn’t to be trusted.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, confused, “Why? Do you know something I don’t?”

She never got her answer, as Asra broke away from her, fading into the crowd before Lucio could see them together.

“Annie, sorry to have kept you waiting.” He climbed into the carriage, nestling close to her with his arm moving around her shoulders again.

He barked at the coach to return to the castle, and though his hand was spotless, she immediately took note of the blood staining the very edge of his cuff.

_That wasn’t there before._

_____________

Anne closed the door to her room behind her, grateful for the chance to be alone finally. She’d complained about a headache, and then fatigue, but what finally made Lucio back off from hovering over her was when she faked a slight cough. He’d almost tripped backing up so suddenly, and reassuring him she only needed rest, he’d allowed her to retire to her rooms for the time being.

She probably shouldn’t have done that, not with everything going on, but she needed some space, even if she had to fake a cough in the middle of a pandemic. So, no regrets for the moment. Vesuvia had grown unbearably hot in the late afternoon, and she needed to be out of this dress.

Kicking off her slippers, she struggled to undo the lacing of her bodice behind her, going in completely blind without a mirror to help her. She managed to undo her bindings, not even bothering to remove the lacing that pieced her sleeves to her torso, rather just slipping them off and letting them flop to the floor ungracefully, her chest still tightly bound by the corset on her, her chemise heavy from the humid air. She lifted her skirts up above her knees, stepping on her stockings with her feet so she could pull them off, unable to actually bend at her waist to pull them off normally.

_No wonder nobles needed servants getting dressed, this is ridiculous..._

She heard a few sharp knocks at her door, and panicked, looking for something to hide behind before a servant came in, or worse, Lucio.

_He’d be all hands if he saw her like this, gods._

But instead, a crow faced man eased in the room, holding his bag of goods close to his chest, as he closed the door, visibly stunned once he saw her, skirt hiked, getting undressed, her breasts on the verge spilling out of her corset.

The silence was deafening, and he firmly held the bag in front of him, stuttering.

“M-Miss Anne, I apologize for interrupting.”

She wanted nothing more than to jump into his arms when she heard his voice, so happy to see him since they last parted, but something held her back, and she hated it.

“Julian...” she dropped her skirts as she whispered his name, taking a few cautious steps towards him. He didn’t move away from her, didn’t stop her when she placed a hand on his arm, which clung even tighter to the leather of his bag when she did. His breaths came quicker, and she wished he could see his face.

“Uh, yes, well, it’s me, the one and only Julian. Lucio asked for a physician to come see you. The letter said you’d reported an ache in your head, light fatigue, and even displayed signs of a cough...” he scooted past her, setting his bag down on the bedside table, ignoring her.

“Julian, stop. I’m fine, I faked my symptoms.”

He turned, imperceptible eyes looking at her through his mask.

“Really? Why? _Why_ would you do such a thing?” His tone was uncharacteristically harsh, and it didn’t sound right coming from him.

“Because I wanted space, Lucio has been beside me since early this morning, and telling him that you don’t want to be with him for whatever reason isn’t necessarily the best idea...”

“So you fake symptoms of the plague? _That’s_ where you start?”

She shrugged sheepishly, feeling like a kid caught doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing.

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“Well, yes, but that’s not what this is about.” He leaned over her, his beak pointed at her face like a reprimanding finger.

“Then what is it about?” She crossed her arms, mirroring him.

“I... I don’t know what this is about, but don’t go suggesting you have the plague anymore. Some of us are tired and need what little sleep we can get.”

“Did you not sleep last night, Julian?”

He turned away from her, as if that was going to stop her from reading him like an open book at this point. His silence was damning.

“Why are you ignoring me?”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not!”

She tugged on the sleeve over his elbow, “Look at me.”

He slowly obeyed her, but it wasn’t enough to see this get up anymore.

“Remove your mask, I want to see your face.”

With a tug of his cowl and the snap of a buckle being undone, she could see his face, paler than usual, as he stared down at her.

She put a hand on his chest, her chest swelling at being so close to him again.

“You’re a cruel woman, Anne.” She met his eyes, and she recognized the hunger and longing in them. Balling her fist in his coat, she backed up to the bed, sitting back on it as she wrapped her legs playfully around his, her hand letting go of his coat to rest over his pants, feeling him hard and aching for her touch before propping herself on her arms.

“And why is that?” He put his knee between her legs, not touching her, but laboring nonetheless as he moaned at her touch, rubbing him through the fabric, waiting for him to answer. He slid down, slowly, until he was kneeling between her legs on the floor. His face was flushed, eyes blackened with lust, and she could watch as his self control began unraveling.

“Because you do this to me, knowing I can’t tell you no.”

She giggled sweetly, “Can’t? Or don’t want to?”

“Both.” She lazily started undoing the laces of his pants, enjoying the hitch in his breath.

“Anne, Lucio would kill me if he saw us, we shouldn’t... oooh...” he stopped talking when she pulled him out of his pants, stroking him teasingly. She held onto him there as she stood, switching places with him on the bed, and her above him.

“You were saying?” She reviled in how he writhed beneath her, a hungry, blushing mess at her touch.

“I’ll do anything you want, I promise.”

“Anything?”

“Yes, anything, whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it.”

“Stay still, then.”

She let go of him, remembering to lock the door before going any further, and Julian stayed put, not moving at all as he watched her, his dick out and wanting.

“Look at you, being so sweet for me,” she was deliberately slow, undoing both her over and under skirt, letting them fall to the ground, “it makes it hard to decide what I want to do.”

She stepped on the bed, lifting her chemise as she walked over him, his body resting comfortably between her feet.

“ _My god_ , Anne, you are...”

“ _Hush_ , Julian. We can’t have anyone hearing us.”

He whined, biting his bottom lip as he arched his back, his hands above his head as he silently kept begging her to do something, and only then did she decide what she wanted to do.

She took two steps forward and lowered herself just above his face, holding her chemise up above her hips so he could see her, and she felt his gloved hands greedily grip her by her hips, pulling her down on top of his face, causing her to gasp as his tongue worked away at her.

_Now the real challenge was making sure she could stay quiet._

The corset prevented her from watching him eat her out, but she learned to accept losing the sight of him by rocking on his face, her hands on his as he hugged the curve of her ass, fingers digging in her hips, his nose rubbing against her clit when his tongue wasn’t inside her, and she struggled to catch her breath.

“Be rough with me, Julian.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

His muffled reply between her thighs was followed by a fierce bite placed tenderly on the inside of her thigh, and it took all she had to not cry out in surprise, but she stayed silent, her panting the only sound she made. She felt his teeth scrape against her, careful not to actually hurt her, but when he finally flicked her clit with his tongue, ever so slightly pinching it between his teeth, she felt herself finally starting to build.

“Right there, oh my gods, there Julian. Don’t stop.”

He moaned into her cunt, letting go of her hips momentarily to undo one of his gloves, he replaced one of his hands on her hip, the other slipping two fingers inside of her, exploring inside of her, searching for that spot inside of her.

She bucked as soon as he did, and she felt his fingers curling inside of her, fluttering on top of that stop that made her eyes roll back in her head, and she quickly felt herself nearing the edge.

A moment, then another, until she silently sobbed, cumming in his face, thick thighs swallowing him as she clenched around him. She bit on her hand in an effort to stay quiet, her entire body shaking from her orgasm until she came back down to earth, and suddenly remembering Julian’s need to breathe.

“Oh fuck, Julian...” she rolled back onto his chest, looking down at him gasping for air, completely ravaged, licking his lips and smiling, readjusting his arms so that they rested on top of her legs, tracing invisible lines across her thighs, up to her hips, dipping along the line of her corset, resting just above her still quivering cunt.

“Did you enjoy yourself? Was I good?” He was being genuine, suddenly looking very small and shy underneath her.

“Of course you were, Julian.”

She eased off of him, rolling on her back beside him, exhausted and tired, but not forgetting about his needs. She pushed herself to a sitting position at the base of the bed, motioning for him to rest between her legs.

“Come, Julian, you can touch yourself now.”

She pushed his curls out of his face once he was comfortable, pumping himself as his head laid back on her chest, her pushed up breasts the perfect pillow to rest his head on. Anne delighted in the sounds he made, however quiet, kissing and whispering encouraging words in his ear.

Julian really was a beautiful sight when consumed with lust, pleasuring himself in her bed, legs starting to shake and his strokes getting sloppy quickly.

“Are you close?”

“Y-yes, ma’am.” He panted out the words, his voice low and husky.

“Thank me. You can’t cum until you say thank you for letting you cum.”

He whined, trying to stop himself from cumming as he groveled beneath her.

“Thank you, thank you so much, I don’t deserve you...”

She smiled to herself, remembering something said to her the other day.

“You deserve me because I say you do. _Now cum_.”

And he did, throwing his head back as she clamped her hand over his mouth, not trusting him to stay silent by himself as he spent himself.

_____________

Julian helped her finish getting dressed again in the heavy dress she was wearing earlier, the heat of the day having passed by now. He wasn’t even finished trying her bodice on before he planted little kisses along her neck, nibbling on her ear as he tied off the bottom of her laces.

“That’s mean.” She turned to throw her arms around his neck, and he had to lean down for her to do so.

“You like it.”

They swayed in each other’s arms, prolonging the inevitable moment where they’d have to part.

“Julian...”

“Ilya.”

She tilted her head, waiting for an explanation.

“I, uh, I go by Julian, but my real name is Ilya. I’d like you to use it, if you don’t mind, that is.”

A small smile crept on her face, “Ok... _Ilya_.”

He hummed his approval, peppering her face with kisses.

“As I was saying... I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but...” she kissed him tenderly, feeling him lift her as he picked her up for a moment, “I want you to know that I want to be with you.”

“Good, because you’re stuck with me now.”

“I’m serious, Ju-Ilya. No matter what, you’re the one I want.”

He set her down, looking serious now, “You mean Lucio.”

She nodded, feeling embarrassed, but he kissed her cheek.

“I believe you, but can you not... I don’t know, turn away his affections? You could stay at my clinic with me, Brundle would love it.” He smiled, but she felt uneasy.

“That sounds wonderful... even if the bed is much smaller.”

“Just means I’ll get to touch you more.”

She rolled her eyes, laughing, “You _would_ immediately think that.”

“You wouldn’t laugh if you were the one sleeping with an incredibly beautiful woman, you know.”

They laughed softly, sharing gentle kisses, but he knew.

“It’ll be okay, Anne. If nothing else, no matter what, I’m not making the same mistake and walking away from you again.”

She kissed him a final time, half heartedly pushing away from him.

“I’ll try to break the news to him, but...”

“In your own time, Anne, but I would do it sooner rather than later. Later might be...” he trailed off, searching for the right word.

“Harder?”

“ _Dangerous_.”


	8. Barely Covered

Anne lounged on a cushioned couch brought to the garden, cuddling around a book Ilya had given her in the cool evening night. The sounds of Lucio sparring interrupting her occasionally, but she didn’t mind. She could see the beads of sweat building along his muscled shoulders as he moved, blocking and partying blows with practiced ease.

It’s easy to forget that he earned his title as a mercenary, with how he is sometimes, but right now, she couldn’t doubt it. She set aside her book, marking the page before she indulged herself, sipping her wine and watching as he evaded his sparring partners strike while also moving too fast for her eyes to keep up, but somehow he knocked his partner to the ground, his sparring sword raised above him in a mock attempt to finish off his opponent.

She put down her cup to clap lightly, smiling when Lucio looked at her, giddy with adrenaline. His sparring partner forgotten, he deftly flicked his sword as he showed off for her, walking away from his sparring ring in her direction.

She’d been searching for the opportunity to talk to him for days now, but catching a private moment with him had been difficult enough, let alone a private moment that lasted long enough for her to speak with him. The life of a Count wasn’t a private one, however, and though she didn’t delight in the idea of leading him on, she still enjoyed the game they both played.

“Enjoy the show, Annie?”

“Hmm... hard to say. It was all so fast for me.” She smiled mischievously at him from behind her hand, enjoying the sight of him getting slightly annoyed at her not complimenting him. A servant brought him a towel, and he gave them his sword to hold before he wiped himself down, tossing it to the ground before he slid down in front of her, a sharp talon dragging along her bottom lip as he bit his own.

“I’d be willing to show you, if you’d like. A private... lesson with the Count of Vesuvia in swordplay.”

She opened her mouth, carefully taking his thumb in her mouth and hummed her approval, her eyes glued to his face. He gasped, and she saw just a touch of pink color his cheeks as his breathing deepened.

“Is that a yes?”

She gently pushed his hand away, trailing her fingers across his chest and over his shoulder.

“Mmm... yes, but only if you promise to play fair.”

He grinned, standing while he reached for his sword from the servant who took it earlier.

“I always play fair.”

She barked out a laugh, stretching slightly with her hands over her head as she walked to the center of the courtyard. She was handed the hilt of a wooden sword, which was no doubt lighter than the blunted sword that Lucio twirled in his hands, circling her like a predator.

“You may want to get into something more comfortable, Annie. I can’t promise that your dress will make it through the session.” He lifted the bottom of her dress with the tip of his sword, easily able to rip the fabric with a flick of his wrist.

“Tear my dress,” she held the point of her wooden sword to his throat, “and I’ll knock you up the side of your head with your own sword.” He chuckled, knocking her sword to the side with his own, getting closer to her.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“Then do it and see what happens.” She held her sword in front of her with one hand, the other hiking up her skirt so that she didn’t trip over her own garments.

“Careful, Annie, I may actually take you up on that offer.” He readied himself, getting into a fighting stance as he lowered his sword, waiting patiently for her to move.

“Then stop playing and do something.” She snapped at him, perhaps a little harsher than originally intended, but he didn’t seem deterred at all by her tone, possibly even encouraged by it.

He looked as if he was about to strike her on her left side, and she moved to block it, but he then was moving in on her right, the sword stopping just before it came into contact with her side.

“At least try to put up a fight, Annie. You’re making it too easy.” She really tried to hit him then, wanting to prove him wrong, but he made a show of just how easy it was to go against her, and her chest flared with frustration.

“Annie, you’re boring me.”

“Shut up!” Coils of magic flowed from her body around his sword, and the moment they came in contact with the metal of his sword, it went red and started to melt, dripping molten metal onto the marble beneath them, and Lucio dropped the handle of it, shrieking at her display.

“Hey! HEY! EASY! I was playing! _ANNIE_!”

She dropped her sword, hands flying to her mouth once she’d realized what she’d done. She moved to him, wanting to apologize before he charged her, tackling her to the ground in a fit of laughter.

“Annie! Why didn’t you say you could do that!? Show me how to do that!”

She grunted from the weight of him on her, and she tried pushing him off of her, but he pinned her hands to the ground.

“Say you’ll teach me, come on.”

“Get off of me, Lucio.” She still felt the competitive, orneriness in her chest, her heart beating wild.

“Not until you say yes.” He was confident, lording himself over her as he got comfortable on top of her, his thighs easily swallowing her torso.

“Final warning, Lucio.”

“Or what? You gonna make me get off you? I’d like to see you-”

She jerked her hand from under his fast enough to land a hard and swift slap to his face, taking him completely off guard.

While he was stunned, she pushed him off of her, rolling on top of him and planting her hands on his chest, running on pure adrenaline at this point, feeling high.

“As if you could stop me from doing anything I really wanted.”

Wide eyed, his stunned expression turned feral, a maddening grin mixed with a laugh bordering on hysterical.

“Is that so?” He pushed against her hand slowly, not meeting much resistance as he eased himself up to a sitting position. Anne leaned back as he got closer, feeling her face getting warmer by the second, hyper aware of how close he was, and how he pressed into her through both of their clothes.

She heard a polite cough, as if they were clearing their throat, and she all but squeaked, having enough self control to not hide behind her hands at the sight of the Countess, standing tall and firm at the edge of the courtyard, her hands folded in front of her as she held their gaze.

“Countess, forgive me...” Anne stood off of Lucio immediately, dropping into a low curtsy.

Lucio cleared his throat roughly, standing with a groan before he directly addressed his wife.

“Noddy, I didn’t hear you come by.”

“That much is apparent, Lucio.” Her voice felt like ice, and Anne could feel it cut to her core.

“Noddy, come now, don’t be mad.” He tried to play it off as if he was confident, but even Anne could see the way his eyes shifted, like a child caught with his hand in a jar.

Nadia pinched the space between her brows, clearly frustrated.

“Enough, Lucio.” Crimson eyes met Anne’s, and for a moment, she felt herself shake under her gaze.

A long silence lingered before the Countess spoke, the razor edge to her voice gone.

“Anne... would you walk with me?” She felt short of breath, but managed to nod, moving to follow the Countess, doing all that she could to stifle her anxiety and not look at Lucio.

Anne did, however, look at Nadia, who put her hand on her back, a gentle smile on her face before she glanced back to where Lucio stood, the wicked look in her eyes evident. 

_____________

The Countess set a slow pace for Anne, their arms linked as if they were more than just mere acquaintances, as if she was not walking with a woman who she’d just caught on top of her husband. Mentally, amidst her panic, Anne thanked her for it. This would’ve been hard enough if she had to have borderline run to keep up with the Countess’s long legs.

She couldn’t break the silence. Or rather, shouldn’t break it. She was in no position to assume anything, at this point.

“Anne, now that we’re away from my husband,” she felt herself tense up, no longer breathing, “... are you well?”

Anne blinked incredulously, not even attempting to hide her confusion.

“I’m sorry?”

“Are you well? I’m aware of how... insistent Lucio can be at times. He didn’t make you uncomfortable, right?”

Anne couldn’t even believe the words she was hearing, but managed to respond to the Countess.

“No... no, he didn’t make me uncomfortable, my lady.”

“Please, call me Nadia. We’re alone here, in the garden.” She held Anne’s hand closer, tenderly cradling it with hers as she stopped walking, speaking in a hushed voice.

“I don’t understand. Why are you not furious with me?”

_Way to push your luck, Anne._

Nadia smiled down at her, albeit sadly, “I do not blame you for Lucio’s choices. In truth, if it wasn’t you who he showered with gifts and affection, it would’ve been someone else eventually.”

Her chest felt tight, filled with guilt and embarrassment.

“I don’t know what I could say that would...” Anne looked around them, trying to think, but instead lingered on a patch of lavender behind Nadia.

“You needn’t say anything. This was never your burden to bear. Besides...” she let go of Anne’s hand, taking a few steps away from her, looking over the different flowers surrounding them.

“I grow tired of being surrounded by people who’re either unable or unwilling to risk my ire by being honest with me.”

They stood silently, but for once, it didn’t feel uncomfortable to Anne.

“Tell me something, Anne. Do you love Lucio? Or perhaps, care for him?”

Nadia admired the lavender, breathing in its strong fragrance, waiting for her response.

“... No. I don’t.”

Nadia actually chuckled softly, turning to look at Anne over her shoulder.

“Well... that is unexpected, but perhaps we have more in common than I originally thought.”

She almost glided as she walked, pulling Anne along by her hand, her soft and long fingers warm. She seemed to know exactly where she was going, and Anne was content to follow her, wherever that was.

_____________

Nadia led Anne to a large veranda that overlooked the entire garden, filled with furniture meant for lounging on, to which Nadia insisted Anne join her on.

Which is where she found herself now, curled up beside her, two glasses of white wine in their hands, while they ate the fresh fruit that’d been brought to them by servants, the pleasant floral scent of the garden carried up to them by a warm late afternoon zephyr.

“So you’re a magician, then? Not a doctor?”

Anne sipped her wine before speaking, the acidic taste of pear and lime mixed with floral notes foreign to her tongue.

“I want to be one, I’ve actually been trying to learn, though it’s a lot harder than I anticipated.”

“Ah, yes. You’re studying under Doctor Devorak, I remember.”

Anne smiled, leaning against the back of the loveseat.

“It’s so strange to hear him called that, I’ve always just known him as Julian.”

She was still getting used to the idea of calling him Ilya, but Nadia didn’t need to know that.

“I’ve never had the opportunity to really get to know the Doctor. Perhaps I finally shall, now that you’re here to keep me company.”

She paused, looking at Nadia, who met her gaze, a small smirk playing at her lips. She wrapped an arm around Anne’s shoulders, pulling her close.

“The palace is lonely enough as it is, Anne. We needn’t be at odds with each other over something as small as a man.”

Anne giggled, holding her wine glass up to Nadia’s, softly clinking it with hers.

“Cheers to that, Countess.”

_____________

Anne spent only an hour or so more with Nadia before she was called away by a Courtier, whose pallid skin and strange obsession with trying to show them both his worms was enough for her to excuse herself from Nadia’s company, if only with the promise that they’d see each other again, soon.

The sound of her footsteps echoed a little in the hallway, and the afternoon heat was starting to get to her.

The wine probably didn’t help with that. She’d probably had more wine this past week than she’s had in her entire life.

She wished she could spend some time with Ilya right now, but she also knew that he needed to work. She’d be down there with him now, if it wasn’t for everything going on.

She should probably go find Lucio, now. He was probably still stewing, with how Nadia walked in on them, and as awkward as it was, she needed to talk about the whole mistress thing. Or rather, about her answer.

He said he’d respect her decision, but she still felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. Even though, at the end of it all, they could both move foreword.

_She could officially be with Ilya, even._

Her feet carried her to his wing of the palace, the air heavy. She hadn’t actually been here since the party where...

She touched her nose, the stitches gone but her wound still sore and tender to the touch. It’d leave a scar, like Ilya said, but neither she nor Ilya minded that. Even Lucio didn’t seem to care, which both surprised her and yet didn’t at the same time. Lucio seemingly always demanded the finest of all things, and she half expected him to lose interest at the fresh scar on her face, unable to be hidden, but when she’d tried to hide it from him with her hand, he not so tactfully reminded her of the golden prosthetic that he boldly displayed for everyone to see.

Lucio was a mercenary long before he was a Count, and like anyone from that line of work, he walked away with more than a few scars, even losing his arm. It’s just hard to remember that when he’s dressed in his white suit, eating ox tartare and sipping wine while undressing her with his eyes from across the room.

She held back from knocking on his door, it felt too formal, and yet, just opening the door seemed too... casual. She took a breath, and another, before she slowly opened the door to his bedroom, the dark red lit up from the final sunlight of the day shining into the room. She closed the door as quietly as she could, looking around to see if Lucio was there.

The room itself felt humid, and she could hear the sound of water in the room connected to his, as well as the sound of a pained grunt coming from it.

_Lucio_.

She pushed past the voice in her head to leave, moving around the bed to take a quick look down the hallway, where she could see Lucio.

He was facing away from her, dressed in a towel that was loosely wrapped around his waist as he sat there with his legs in the bath, his prosthetic laying to the side of him, no longer attached to the stump that was left of his left arm. She could see him slightly hunched over, gripping his side with his good arm, the sounds of him holding his breath as if in pain were mixed with the sound of him moving his legs in the water.

“Who is it?” He hissed his words, grunting once more in pain, turning to see her. She watched his eyes go wide at the sight of her.

“Annie? What are you- hnggg...” He grimaced, biting down on his lip as his clutched his stump, trying to breathe through the pain.

Careful not to slip on the dark stone floor, she moved to his side in an instant, kneeling down next to him but not touching him. She didn’t want to overt step, or worse, hurt him.

“How can I help?”

Such a simple question, and yet even Lucio couldn’t answer it, his face twisted in pain as he grasped for an aching limb that was no longer there.

Anne felt herself still, a calm feeling finding its rest in her gut, even as Lucio struggled in front of her.

“Lucio, where does it all hurt?” He looked at her while gritting his teeth.

“I don’t know how to explain it. It’s here,” he gestured towards the area where his arm had been amputated, “... and yet, here.” He briefly moved his hands to where his arm would’ve been, but there was nothing but empty space. He gasped quietly, reacting to the sharp pain that kept coming in waves, but never fully gone. 

Making sure he could see her doing everything, she gently placed her hands on his shoulder. His wound had long since healed, but right now, she could see how inflamed it’d gotten. It was hot to the touch, his skin slick from the bath, and she closed her eyes, doing her best to reach inside herself to pull whatever healing magic she could.

When she opened her eyes again, she focused on the magic moving from her hands into his shoulder, being as gentle as she could. She felt him tense when the magic came in contact with his skin, but as she worked to help dull whatever pain she could, she noticed his own breathing slow, the muscles on his chest no longer as tight from the pain.

She didn’t notice his gaze on her, for once, at least not until it’d been a few minutes since she’d started to work.

“What?”

He bit his bottom lip, his face relaxed. His eyes told her the truth, though. They were exhausted and bloodshot, the lines around his eyes deeper than normal.

“You remind me of Doctor Jules, right now.”

“Oh? I don’t ever recall Julian being able to do magic.” She smiled at him, feeling playful, but also glad to hear his voice no longer strained.

He rolled his eyes at her.

“You know I don’t mean it like that. What I meant to say, was... well... that you both look a certain way when you treat people.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, hoping for him to continue.

He sheepishly ducked his head, looking away from her as a slight blush touched his cheeks.

“You just... you both just have this look, when you help people. It’s calming.”

Anne smiled softly, “Does it still hurt?”

He shakes his head a little, looking back at her.

“No.” His voice is quiet. The normal bravado gone.

“Good. I’m glad I came by.”

She moved to stand, but she felt his hand on hers, warm and strong; his eyes meeting hers.

“Won’t you stay a little longer?”

His bold smile stretched across his face as he spoke, but she saw the desperation in his eyes. He didn’t want to be alone, and how could she blame him?

“Only if you promise to behave.”

“What’s the fun in that? Hey!” He started to get up after her when she (very seriously) stood up and walked away, acting as if she was actually going to leave him. She glanced back at him over her shoulder, and her eyes dropped immediately to the towel that just barely covered him from the waist down, his hand the only thing holding it up right now.

The orange sunlight lit up his skin wherever it touched him, and she realized that this was actually the first time she’d seen him completely shirtless before, and she raked her eyes from the curve of his neck, all the way down to the lines along his hips, that led down to...

She snapped her eyes back up to his, the silver of them almost hypnotizing with the shadows of the room deepening by the second. She felt short of breath as she left his bathroom, choosing to fixate on a very interesting part of the wall as she took a seat at the foot of the bed.

He followed after her, his pace slow and deliberate as he sat next to her, close enough that she could feel the heat coming off of him. He shifted to make sure the towel wouldn’t fall away when he moved his hand up to her neck, impossibly gentle as he traced his fingers back and forth across her chest, starting from her collarbone, trailing along her chest, and up to the other side of her shoulders. He eventually rests his fingers just underneath her jaw, right where he could feel her heart racing in her veins. His eyes bore into her, and he leaned close to her, pressing a gentle kiss on her jaw before whispering in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

“May I?”

She struggled to breathe, but not from his hand on her throat.

“We shouldn’t, Lucio.”

“Why?” He gave another kiss, this time on the shell of her ear.

“You’re married. It isn’t right...”

He breathed in deeply, but didn’t move away from her, drawing small patterns into her skin with his fingers.

“Is this because Noddy caught us earlier?”

She looked him in the eyes then, her cheek brushing his, his gaze burning into her, and their breath mingling together.

“I don’t need to be caught by your wife to know that we shouldn’t be doing this... or encouraging you any further than I already have.”

“You say that, and yet I know you still want me. You can’t hide it from me.” He took her earlobe between his teeth, gently nipping her there. It was all she could do not to make any sound.

He moved his hand from her neck, taking her hand and holding it up to his lips, kissing the inside of her palm and wrist over and over, almost reverent of her touch. Speaking into her palm, he continued looking at her.

“So enough with the good girl act. We both know you don’t care about my wife. Why are you really pulling away from me?”

She tried to pull her hand away from him, but he held her wrist in a firm grip, not letting her go just yet, though he didn’t hurt her.

“Am I not allowed to just not be interested in you? Perhaps I just tire of your company.”

He nodded his head, almost comically considering her words.

“You’re certainly allowed to tell me no, I told you that in the beginning. However, we both know that’s not true, and am I truly undeserving of an explanation? To leave me without another word?”

“I can’t leave you if I’ve never been with you.” She snapped at him, if only because he was right, and could see right through her, and it made her uncomfortable. The truth was that she did want him. Not romantically, no. She didn’t want to live with him, or share a life. But she wanted him. Wanted him on top of her, to feel the stinging sensation of his hand as he smacked her ass, the intoxicating sensation of his lips on her skin, and how she wanted to feel it everywhere. It drove her mad sometimes.

“Is it someone else? I could hardly blame anyone for wanting you, it’s true, but you can imagine how badly I’d want to know who managed to steal you from me.”

She pulled her hand away from him, and this time he let it go, leaning back on the bed as he propped himself on his arm, the towel barely covering him as it was, and now she could see just how he really felt about her, his dick hard and wanting beneath the fabric.

“So... who is it?” His smile was devilish, matched only by the mischievous delight in his eyes.

“That’s not your business.”

“Isn’t it? I can certainly make it my business, if you’d like.”

She sighed dramatically, standing and putting more distance between them.

“I’m not your mistress or your lover, Lucio. You’ve no claim to me.”

“You say that as if I don’t know that already.”

She _tsk’d_ at him, crossing her arms.

The silence was uncomfortable, especially when he propped himself on his pillows, his towel mostly abandoned except for the barest amount covering him, and even then, his hand rested over his dick, pawing at it slowly through the fabric.

“You know, Annie, you can leave anytime. I’m not keeping you here.”

“I’m sure you’d like that, so you could have the last word.”

“I’d like for you to come over here so I could fuck the attitude out of you, but we’re all making sacrifices today.”

She sputtered, immediately forgetting how to speak.

“I do not have an attitude. It’s... you’re the one behaving inappropriately.”

He made a face at her, almost scowling.

“You’re in _MY_ bedroom, and I told you that you could leave.”

“That still doesn’t mean you can just... well.”

He bit down on his lip, making a show of it. He moved his hand underneath the towel, still not exposing himself but she could see him gripping himself, making slow movements as he started to pump himself.

“It seems... ah, that you’re the one intruding now.”

He made no effort to muffle any moans or gasps he made as he looked at her.

_Damn her pride._

“You’re impossible, Lucio... and also not going to deter me.”

“Well I’m not stopping, so you can either leave, or stand there and glare at me the entire time. Or even better... Ah! You can... get on top of me and ride me. Promise... I won’t tell anyone.” He winked at her, and she felt her knees go weak, and her stomach drop as she felt herself go hot.

He removed the towel finally, spreading his legs wide for her to see him, completely erect and panting as he looked at her, his eyes almost black with lust.

She backed into the armchair behind her, her knees buckling once they hit the seat, her eyes glued to his as he looked at her, his hand never stopping.

“Know what I’m thinking about, Annie?”

“Shut up, Lucio.”

“I’m thinking about how you’d feel, wrapped around me right now... How even then, you’d still try to act like a brat. I’d want you to slap me again, just like how you did in the courtyard.”

Her knuckles were white against the armrests. He let out a sweet and drawn out moan, bucking his hips into his hand.

“You’re hot when... you get mad... and I could almost beg you to let me correct that mouth of yours. By the time I’d be done with you, you wouldn’t be able to speak, let alone have that attitude of yours that I like.”

She felt lightheaded, her breath almost as fast as his. With each sound he made, she felt a string of lighting run through her body, straight to her core. He could see it, too. See how he affected her.

_How he was right about how much she wanted him._

When he stopped talking, he brought himself to the edge with practiced ease, his legs shaky and his breath coming out in shudders, his head thrown back, eyes closed.

“Annie... I...” It came out almost like a whine.

She stood then, suddenly able to move from her spot, almost dashing out of the room before he finished in front of her, slamming the door behind her as he came, the sound of his orgasm loud even through the door.

_Damn him. Damn him damn him damn him._

_Fuck she wanted him. She couldn’t even deny it._

She wouldn’t let him do this, though. Get the best of her. Turn her on, teasing her. She knew she’d cave, eventually.

“Fuck...” she whispered it, moving away from his door, heading anyway that wasn’t here.

She didn’t even care when she passed the courtier she’d initially seen at the party, carrying his wine glass as he glared at her, a palpable hatred in his gaze at her.

_To be blunt, she was too frustrated in all the wrong (right) ways to give a shit about him right now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was totally written with you in mind, Kellie.


	9. Hurt Me

She slammed the door to her room in the palace, and she couldn’t care less if it startled anyone down the hall.

_Why is he like this? Why?_

She started to pull at the strings holding her dress together, pacing her room as she undressed, not wanting to be confined to the heavy fabric any longer. Before long, she stood in just her chemise, throwing her garments on the bed, before finally removing her chemise entirely.

Vesuvia was always hot, but whether or not it was from the hot air or her body reacting to... what she’d just seen, she could feel herself start to sweat, her only relief being the slightly cracked window she’d left open this morning. The breeze chilled her, but hardly quelled the fire in her belly.

_He has no right to look like that. To look at her like that._

She continued to pace, ringing her hands out, trying anything to take her mind off of him.

“Ugh...” she started to undo her hair, pulling the pins out and setting them on vanity, her hair slowly falling down onto her shoulders and back, taking time to massage her tender scalp.

Images of Lucio gripping her by her hair instantly filled her mind, and she sighed, looking at her naked reflection in the mirror, definitely not imagining what it would be like to see him standing behind her, a golden hand on her hip, and his other hand finding its home between her legs as they both watched him work.

She lightly smacked her face a few times, trying to bring her out of her reverie.

_Think of Julian. Think of how he is when he wants you. How these last few days have been._

Rather than fanciful images, she flooded her thoughts with memories of these past few nights with Julian. When he sat her on his counter, the cool glass of his cabinets behind her, worshiping her chest, kissing and sucking, leaving marks with her permission. How he’d groveled at her feet, begging for her to let him touch even just her calves, ending up eating her out in chair next to his desk at his clinic, how he whined and moaned when she gripped his hair, locking her legs around his head when she came.

_She felt so lightheaded, now. Damn it, that didn’t help at all._

She looked again at the mirror, but now instead of just Lucio, she imagined Julian there, too. Both of them kissing her on either side, fighting for her attention, for her mouth on them, or who would be allowed to touch her, and where. Julian wanting to eat her out, her legs over his shoulders, with Lucio holding her up, gripping her breasts roughly as he forced his tongue inside her mouth.

She whimpered at the mental image, her whole body on fire. She pulled the chair to her vanity out, sitting in the low, cushioned seat as she rested her feet on the wood of the vanity, looking at herself in the mirror a final time before she closed her eyes, falling back into her mind as she reached down to touch herself. She knew she’d already be wet, knew she’d be so sensitive with how she couldn’t get either man out of her head.

She shuddered out a sigh, letting her head fall back as she teased herself, trying to imagine it was Julian touching her, his long fingers finding a steady pace, his expression drunk with lust and wanting beside her. She could almost hear his voice perfectly in her head, her body shivering at the idea of him whispering in her ear.

“You’re so beautiful like this. I can’t help but be undone when around you.”

She gasped, fighting against her own body to not buck, trying to stay still so she could still keep rubbing herself, to not mess up her pace, pushing her heels into the wood as the pressure built inside her.

She could also hear Lucio in her head, imagining him on the other side of her as he degraded her, calling her names, telling her how he owned everything that she was, how even now, all she could think about was him. She pinched her nipple roughly between her fingers with her other hand, and she struggled to stifle a moan as she imagined Lucio being the one to pinch her, purposefully rough with her because he enjoyed, even then, to make her squirm. To make her ask him to be gentle, or perhaps, just for her to get angry at him for being a little mean.

Gods, something about him made her want to fight him all the time, even just the idea of him holding her down, slamming into her until she cried, hot tears running down her face as she begged for more made her want to fight against him, for him to grip her by her throat, smacking her face, forcing her to submit to him, to put her in her place, underneath him in both body and mind.

It made her close to the edge, that white, hot energy driving her mad as she edged herself, doing everything she could to just focus on how she felt, her fingers rubbing roughly at herself, her clit swollen and sensitive.

She felt herself fall off the edge, bucking up into her hand, almost coming out of her chair, locking her legs out in front of her as her orgasm came in slow, powerful waves, until she laid there quietly, her body humming while her mind was finally quiet, like the room around her.

________

Hours later, after soaking in a bath until she pruned, she slipped into the old clothes she’d originally brought with her, and had joined an eager Ilya outside of the palace walls, the warm Vesuvian night acting as a gentle shroud around them. She’d laughed at how he was literally bouncing on his toes waiting for her when she finally reached him, and he made sure to give her sweet kiss after kiss on her nose, and lips, and cheeks, and forehead to show her how much he’d missed her.

“Well hello to you, too.”

“I missed you.”

“I can see that.”

“... I missed you a lot.”

She laughed, soaking in the affection he so freely gave her, before hooking her pinky with his, pulling him along gently. She might as well have said something impossibly filthy in his ear, for how much he blushed, completely smitten as a woman as small as her pulled him along with absolutely no resistance.

“So where are we going, today?”

“I promised to take you to the Raven, and I’d like to make good on the offer. I’ll even pay for half the drinks.”

She jokingly glared at him, going as far as to let go of his pinky, to which he pouted, pulling her close with a large hand on her hip.

“ _Fine_... fine, you’ve convinced me. At least eighty percent.”

She slapped his chest, and for a moment she thought she did it too hard, but then she paused, smiling and laughing to herself.

_There’s no such thing as too hard for Julian._

________

She heard the Raven long before they ever reached it, and when Julian pushed in the door, the heat of the tavern, mixed with the briny smell of salt, alcohol, sweat, and coffee was mildly overwhelming for a moment, but Julian, as ever, was there to ground her, his hand having never left her hip, gripping firmly and pulling her close to his body as he navigated the crowd, shielding her from any unwanted attention with his large coat.

Eventually, they found a small booth at the far end of the bar, Anne squeezing in before Julian into the area that could probably fit two to three people comfortably, but with Julian’s legs, two people max, and they better be on friendly terms.

“So, Miss Anne, what is it that you fancy?” He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her flush against his body and she felt her cheeks go red, smiling.

“Tall, curly red hair, willing to get on all fours, crawling to me, so he can beg me to let him touch me.”

He choked, sputtering as he whimpered, “I-that is-I meant what you’d like to drink, but that is good to know, of course. I’ll bear it in mind.”

He gave her a winning smile, and she scooted even closer to him.

“I’ve been having a lot of wine lately, do you think they have any?”

He grimaced, if only lightly.

“More likely to have beer, cider, and more beer.”

“Cider then. The sweeter the better.”

“I can do that.”

She pulled the side of his coat around her as Julian waved down someone down to order their drinks, something called a Marine Anvil for him, and an aptly named Raspberry Potion for her.

“Are those actual drinks, or did you just randomly name off rubbish and hope they pour something you like?”

“Oh no, they’re actual drinks, though I’m sure they could put anything in front of me and I’d drink it.”

“Well... what if you don’t like it?”

He kissed her forehead, drawing circles on her hip absentmindedly.

“Then I drink it faster so I can’t taste it anymore.”

Well that’s healthy.

“So, Ilya, is this a date?”

She hiked the leg closest to him over his own leg, resting it just between his legs.

“Would you like for this to be a date?”

She giggled, no doubt looking doe eyed up at him.

This is sickeningly sweet, what she’s about to say, but if anyone deserves to hear this, it’s him. At least there’ll be alcohol soon if she couldn’t stand herself afterwards.

“Of course I do. I want so many more nights with you. Not even just like this, but curled around you, and Brundle, of course. I love waking up next to you, love how you have insanely awful bed head, and how you have no concept of not hogging a bed. I love the way you look at me as if I’m literally the only person in the room, and you make me feel as if I have a thousand butterflies in my chest. I want more moments where you bring me coffee in the morning, of us working in the clinic together, you using your skills as a physician, and me using my magic whenever I can. You make me so happy, Ilya, that I feel like I could burst. So yes, I want this to be a date.”

She buried her face in his chest, then, not emotionally ready to see the ramifications of what she just said to him, and he took a gentle breath in, using a finger to pull her chin up to look him in the eyes, a soft and gentle smile reaching his eyes.

“Do you mean that? Really?”

She looked away, insanely embarrassed, but in too deep to back out now. She nodded, looking back up at him.

He kissed her. Tenderly at first, pulling her into his lap easily with his arm, his other hand cradling the back of her neck as he slowly deepened the kiss, growing more passionate at the minutes passed. At some point, their drinks had been brought, but it was hard to give a damn when she felt his tongue part her lips, sending shivers down her spine and leaving her out of breath when he ran his fingers through her hair, his thumb lightly massaging the tender area behind her ear.

She grabbed at his vest, unsure of where to put her hands, so completely lost in him that even the ambient sounds of the Raven faded into the background, paling in comparison to the sound of his moans when her tongue slid in his mouth, the way he sighed when he pulled away from her finally, undoing the top few buttons of his vest.

“You are... something else.”

“Only for you.”

“I’m selfishly okay with that. Here, your drink, darling.”

He handed her a tall pint filled with a pink, sparkling, liquid that shimmered whenever the light hit it just right, and she took a tentative sip, and it was so sweet that she curled her toes and hummed happily, the sugary taste of raspberries and lemonade and something much stronger pleasant.

“Oh, I _like_ that.”

“I thought you might.”

“I was referring to you calling me darling, but the drink is wonderful, too.” She kissed his neck gently, enjoying his blush as he picked up his own drink, a black brew with a light foam on the top.

“So why is your drink called the Marine Anvil?” She continued to sip her drink with both hands.

“Because that’s what my head’s gonna feel like it was hit with the morning after.”

________

_Many hours, and many drinks later..._

Anne really had lost control of her neck at this point, but that was ok, because she could just rest her head against Julian’s chest, and she enjoyed the sound of him laughing so openly with her, telling her stories of his days spent aboard a pirate ship. The things he claims to have seen and done sound nothing short of sounding like fantasy, but she really didn’t care right now. She was just content to listen to him speak.

“Are you still listening, Miss Anne?”

“Mmmm of course, Ilya.” She nuzzled his neck, almost purring out her answer.

“Really? What did I just say?” She could hear the smile in his voice, and knowing she couldn’t answer, she decided to play dirty, roughly taking his neck in her mouth, his whole body going stiff as he tried to stifle a moan, even amidst the deafening sound of the tavern, as she sucked and licked at his skin, even going so far as to drag her teeth a little.

She felt him pressing up beneath her, moaning gently against his skin when he started to grind against her, letting her shift so that she could be straddling him in the booth, letting his neck go so she could see the dark bruise that she’d left there.

Grabbing at her ass, he pulled her down against his lap, his hips grinding against her, pulling a moan out of her as she went back to his neck, biting down much harder than before, enjoying the strangled sound of Julian crying out, his dick getting as hard as it could while still trapped in his pants.

She left kisses from the fresh bite mark up to his jaw, and then to his lips, leaving a quick but bruising kiss on them before meeting his eyes, full of passion.

“I want you, Anne.”

His hands roamed her body, caressing and squeezing her as he looked her up and down.

“Then let’s get out of here.” She planted a feverish kiss before sliding off of him, and he gave one last look before throwing some coin on the table, and finishing the last of his pint.

________

She held onto his hand as they walked, both of them in a hurry to get back to the clinic.

_Thank the gods it wasn’t far away._

Julian fumbled for the keys in his coat, becoming increasingly frustrated as he tried to find the right key in the dark, and she could feel him sway just a little, the rest of his drinks finally starting to hit him. She leaned against the door frame, idly playing with his belt as she listened to the jingle of keys.

“Better hurry...” Anne pawed at the front of his pants, causing Julian to nearly drop his keys, only to pocket them, and pulling out something else entirely, getting eye level with the lock before he started doing something.

_Is he picking his own lock?_

Anne looked down the alley for a brief moment, and even with her vision slightly blurred, she was able to spot the figure of a giant man standing at the end of the alley, a long black cloak covering his face as he looked at them, his body heavily scarred.

Her mind was foggy, but she felt like she knew him. But from where...?

The door clicked open, and she was hastily dragged into the clinic by Julian, who as soon as the door was closed, lifted her off her feet and pinned her to the door, pushing himself between her legs as he grinding into her, a pleased growl escaping him as she clung to his back, her teeth finding their place on his throat. With one arm around his shoulders, she tried to squeeze her other hand between them, trying to undo the laces to his pants while he refused to stop moving, and it was still pitch dark in the clinic, the sound of Julian panting in her ear in between kissing her neck.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Take your clothes off for me.”

He set her down then, letting her get her footing before she heard him throwing his coat to the floor, the sound of his buttons being undone, laces being roughly pulled through the grommets in his pants, she leaned her head back on the door, her head still swimming from her drinks.

It wasn’t until she felt the reverent touch of Julian’s hands on hers that she opened her eyes, bringing them to his lips to kiss, his breath tickling the inside of her palms as he slowly traveled from the palm of her hand to the inside of her forearm. She could only just begin to see the outline of his body in the darkness.

Her normal inhibitions gone, she ever so gently moved her arm from his hands, her small and delicate hand wrapping her fingers around his throat, her nails slowly digging into his skin, and it made him gasp, almost falling to his knees when she softly guided him to the floor in front of her.

“You’re always so willing, Ilya. Why is that?”

She heard him whimper, his words lazily escaping his lips, “Because it feels good when I don’t have control. You... feel good.”

She hummed, wanting him to continue, so she started undoing her own clothes piece by piece as he kept talking, quickly beginning to ramble nervously.

“I want you to do more than just take control. I want you to hurt me. Call me names. Degrade me. Please...”

Her clothes fell to the floor in a soft pile, and she smiled, standing naked before him as he kneeled, his dick hard for her, but his hands remained obediently at his sides.

“Why do you want me to hurt you?”

Her hand moved from his throat to his hair, running her fingers through his curls, dragging her nails along his scalp, drawing a contented groan out of him.

“Because I trust you to not break me, even when I ask you to.”

She gripped his hair then, securely at the base of his neck, being firm and gradual in the pressure she put. She playfully bit at her lip, enjoying the painful sensation in her drunken state, but he couldn’t see that in the dark, he could only hear the calm, steady voice that came from her as she caressed his cheek with her other hand.

“If I get too rough, hit you too hard, or say something that goes too far, how will I know to stop? How will you tell me?”

He sighed, “Raven. If I say that, then you’ll know.”

“Raven... Say it again.”

“Raven.”

“Good boy.”

She pulled back the hand that had been caressing him and smacked him in the face, not too hard, not following through, but enough to sting.

Julian cried out, his breathing mixed with the sound of him whining.

“Did you like that?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Do you want me to hit you again?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Beg me for it. Beg me to slap you.”

He shifted on his knees, quickly dissolving into a mess as he whined and pleaded with her to hit him again, and harder than she did before.

She held him by his chin, stopping him from talking before she slapped him much harder than last time, still holding back, but absolutely following through when she hit him, but immediately began caressing his cheek to soothe the sting.

It drove Julian insane, and he would’ve been on all fours in front of her had she not still held his head up by his hair.

“Look at you, enjoying being slapped by me. How embarrassing, you’re so pathetic.”

He moaned loudly, his mouth open, and he actually started to touch himself, earning him another hard slap across his face before Anne got down on the ground, pulling him down along with her, her face close to his as she held his face against the ground.

“You think you’re smart enough to have your own ideas now, huh? You actually think you’ve done anything to earn the right to decide what’s best for you?”

“No ma’am, I’m sorry, I-”

“Shut up. I didn’t ask you for your opinion.”

She looked beyond where they were, Julian obediently bent over, his ass in the air as she held his face on the floor.

The bed would be a much better place for her to do what she wanted.

“Stay. If I see you move, you’ll make me mad, and I’ll have to punish you. Do you understand? You may speak.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She gave a gentle kiss on his forehead before letting go of his hair, standing to walk into where the bedroom was.

Light. She needed light. And where is Brundle?

She located the matches on the nightstand, moving to light the candle on Julian’s desk, giving the room a gentle glow. She moved it to the nightstand, then, making sure she had enough light where she needed it.

Also so she could see the wrinkly dog in the bed that was all to happy to be asleep.

“Hey... hey, Brundle. Move.” She stuck a hand underneath Brundle’s rear, poking her enough to annoy her, a tired and exasperated groan coming from her before she got out of bed, finding a random spot on the floor before laying out, content to drift back into sleep.

Oddly enough, Brundle gave her an idea, and before she went back to Julian, she found one of his belts, pulling it out of the pants it’d been left in, folding it up, and coming back to Julian, who had been good and not moved an inch from where she’d left him.

Using the belt, she trailed the bent edge of the leather along Julian’s skin, making him jump a little, as she trailed it from the curve of his ass, down his back, until it hovered just beside his face.

“Lift your head.”

He did so immediately, looking ahead as she slipped the hoop of the belt around his neck, buckling the belt as much as she could (it was still really loose, but she could work with it for now), pulling him up a little by the belt as he naturally rested on all fours.

“You’d be such a good dog for me, crawling around on the floor. Perhaps I could even teach you a few tricks. Would you like that?”

He nodded quickly, almost lost for breath.

“Yes ma’am. I’d love that.”

“I know you would,” she began to walk away very slowly, still holding the makeshift collar, directing him to follow her on his hands and knees like he was on a leash, tugging lightly to get his attention, “you’d be nothing without someone like me. Completely lost, with no direction. Don’t worry, though. I’ll be here to make sure you don’t fuck up anymore.”

She chose to let him move as slow as he was, taking a little mercy on the fact that he WAS crawling on his hands and knees.

She stopped before the bed, taking time to pull him up by his collar into a sitting position on his knees, and yet she smiled when she used her foot to push him down on the middle of his back, between his shoulder blades, confusing him. The moment he would move up, she’d push him down by stepping on him, and the pressure gradually built on his neck, just enough to be uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong, dog? Are you just an idiot or is your tiny mind just that stupid that you can’t guess at what I want you to do?”

When he tried to answer her, she twisted the belt with her wrist, making it tighter and tighter while pulling his head back as she finally let his chest fall to the floor.

“I want an answer. Are you incapable of that, as well?”

“No ma’am. I’m so sorry for not listening to you, I’m sorry!”

“I know... I know you are. It’s probably because I’ve been neglecting you for too long, right? You just get turned on, and what little you’re able to manage on your own is gone, so I can’t blame you entirely. Lay on your back like a good boy.”

Anne slipped off his collar easily before he rolled over, his dick bouncing every now and then as it twitched, begging for attention.

She smiled down at Julian, intentionally trying to be as sweet looking as she could, and he smiled up at her, clearly enjoying himself.

“Put both your hands on the bed frame. Don’t let go until I say you can.”

“Yes ma’am.” He gripped the side of the bed, shifting impatiently as he waited for her to move.

With the belt in one hand, she (while being extremely careful and slow) placed her bare foot over Julian’s balls, hovering over them with her heel on the floor as he gasped, his breath quick as he tried to not move, but he was so eager for her to continue, his eyes begging her.

“I deserve it, please. Please step on me, I wasn’t good for you.”

Anne started to apply pressure to his balls with her foot, rolling forward on her heel as she watched Julian’s face intently, taking note as he choked out a mix of moans and mewling cries of pain. She’d occasionally pull back, letting blood flow back to the area before stepping on him again. It was when he tried pushing against her, trying to make her step on him harder, when she took her foot back altogether.

“You’re not listening very well. Why are you being so bad?”

“I’m not being bad, I promise.”

“Don’t lie to me, dog.”

Anne flicked her wrist, lightly swinging the belt at the tip of his dick, and when it made contact, Julian was anything but quiet, crying out loudly, moaning and writhing, and in general being disobedient, but in the moment, she was enjoying this too much.

So she continued to swipe at his dick with the belt, making a figure eight pattern with the belt as she tortured him, his dick getting red and engorged, every nerve on his dick so beautifully and painfully overstimulated to the point of ecstasy, his eyes rolling back into his head as he bit his lip, thrusting his hips in the air to get more of the stinging sensation of her using his belt on him.

“I want you to know something, dog. Look at me when I’m talking to you.” She tossed the belt to the side, stretching her hands in the air, enjoying the sight of him completely lusting after her, his eyes raking her entire body from the bottom of her feet to the tips of her fingers right now.

“You’re a whore. A useless, meaningless toy for me to use whenever I want you.” She stepped over him, a leg on either side of him, lowering herself until she was just above him, his dick barely touching her, almost able to just slide in if she went any further.

“But you’ll always be my little whore, and you will always belong to me, no matter what...” she slid down then, doing all that she could to not gasp at the sensation of him stretching her out, rather focusing on the sweet, high pitched, whiny moan that came out of Julian as he watched her.

Leaning forward, she pulled his hands away from the bed frame and placed them on her hips, playfully rolling her hips, a shuddering breath escaping him.

“Now earn your pleasure. You’re not allowed to cum before I do, and I’m going to be disappointed if you fail to please me.”

Julian gripped her hips almost painfully, but he used his hands as an anchoring point, both lifting her up whenever he needed and thrusting his hips into her.

“Harder, dog. Fuck me harder.” She didn’t sound nearly as commanding right now, but she could feel herself building already, already so aroused by what she’d been doing to Julian before, so when he tried to fuck her as hard as he could, her tits bouncing up and down, the sound of their skin slapping against each other, the smell of sweat mixed with alcohol on both of them, it wasn’t long before she came on his dick, letting herself put down the dominant persona in order to cry out and whine, trying to rub her clit to make her orgasm last just a little longer, overstimulating herself to the point of insanity, before Julian came after a few more strokes, almost screaming out her name as his hips stuttered against her until he completely stopped, gasping for air.

Anne slipped off him as gently as she could, moving as quickly as she could to grab water in a glass for him, his cum running down her inner thigh as she walked. Setting down the glass, though, she pulled Julian into a warm and gentle embrace, allowing him time to breathe, coming down from his high as he clung to her, exhausted with his eyes closed. Anne just saw there with him on the floor, arms wound his shoulders as she cradled him in her arms, leaving soft kisses on his forehead until he cleared his throat, reaching for the glass of water.

“That was... amazing, Anne.”

“Are you sure? It wasn’t too much? Does anything hurt still?”

Julian kissed her gently, accepting her tiny hands examining his body, making sure nothing was actually damaged.

“Nothing hurts, in fact, I feel so perfect right now. You’re almost too good at that.”

“Did you not like anything?”

“I would’ve used my word if you’d have done anything that I didn’t like, I promise.”

She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder, exhausted.

“Are you alright, darling? I’m not the only one who just went through that. Is there anything I can do for you?”

She sighed, her eyes staying closed.

“... Can we get in the bed and cuddle?”

They both crawled beneath the sheets without another word, a tangle of limbs as they held each other closely, planting small kisses on each other.

“... Ilya?”

“Yes, darling?”

“This May seem silly, but... I don’t actually think all that stuff that I said about you. I think you’re incredible, brilliant, and I feel so lucky to have met you.”

He pulled her tightly against him, running his fingers through her hair as he kissed the very tip of her nose.

“I know, dear, but I love hearing you say all those nice things about me.”

“Oh stop it...” He laughed as she tried to hide her face in the pillow, his face falling back into one that was so... enraptured with what was in front of him, his eyes soft and full of an emotion she felt she recognized, even if she hadn’t seen it before.

“Anne?”

“Yes, Ilya?”

“I... I um...”

His whole face blushed, but he didn’t look away.

“I feel the same way, sweetheart.”

He sighed, his head falling onto the pillow.

“Yeah.”

The spent however long like that, laying in each other’s arms, twirling hair between their fingers, stroking cheeks, leaving soft, breathy kisses on each other before they finally drifted off to sleep, their chest full with something they couldn’t put a name to.


	10. Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW Graphic depictions of Rape and Sexual Assault.

_Curse the sun right now._

Anne buried her face into Julian’s neck, his long limbs just wrapping around her underneath their blanket, struggling to somehow fit even closer together in a bed that barely fit one of them, and no matter what left the other with his feet hanging off the bed. Her back also ached from the dog that had moved to sleep between her legs at some point in the night.

And for all her complaints, she couldn’t have been more grateful for a morning like this. She started to leave little kisses on Julian’s neck, slowly bringing him back from sleep, and she only stopped when she heard him groan, groggy and his hair a wild mess, stretching his body out before kissing her forehead.

“... mornin’.”

She kissed his chin, rough with stubble.

“Good morning. Sleep well?” He laughed, his eyes just barely open enough to see her in the cold morning light.

“Best night I’ve had in a long time. In... more ways than one. Um.”

Not even five minutes awake and he’s already tripping over his words. It made her laugh, leaving his cheeks as red as his hair.

“What?”

“It’s nothing, I promise. I’m just happy.”

He let his head fall back onto the pillow, fiery curls splayed across it.

“So... um... would you...”

Anne patiently waited for him to finish whatever it is he wanted to ask her. In part because she enjoyed him squirming just a little, but also, she had an idea of what he was going to ask, and she wanted to hear him say it.

“... would you like to make this an official thing? I mean, with you living here, or perhaps me living at your shop? I know you said what you said last night, but I just wanted to make sure...”

“I’ll say it however many times you need me to, Julian. Yes, I’d love to live with you, though I don’t think we have the space for me to run my business as a magician here.”

“Is your place not an option?”

She bit her lip absentmindedly, “I also wouldn’t have room for your clinic. And I also have a roommate there, another magician.”

“Oh? This is the first time you’ve mentioned them.”

“Yeah... their name is Asra, they’re... my best friend, really. We’ve known each other for almost ten years. And they have a familiar, too! Her name is Faust, she’s this beautiful, purple snake.”

He made a face at the mention of Faust, or more likely, the fact that there was a snake living in the shop with them.

“Not fond of snakes?”

“Are you?”

“So long as they’re nice and don’t eat my food or destroy my home, I don’t mind any animal that lives with me.”

“You have more animals?”

“Well... technically there’s the stove salamander...”

“The _what_?”

“I’ll... show you him later. He’s great. Makes excellent tea.”

“Uh... yeah. I’m sure.” 

He looked at her strangely, as if to say “I like you a lot, and I’m here to stay, but this is weird and you’re weird and I like you for it.”

She smiled, all rosy cheeks, before Julian shook his head, kissing her cheek sweetly.

“It’s a date, then.”

__________

The both of them had spent a quiet morning together at Julian’s clinic. They’d agreed that after they were done for the day, that they’d meet up in her room at the palace to pack what little she’d brought there before leaving the palace for good (or at least her staying in that room).

She felt... on edge, though. As if eyes were constantly on her that she couldn’t see, and followed her from every room that she went to. First in the library, and then the piano room, and now in the garden, she was sitting on the edge of the fountain, enjoying the cool air that came off from the moving water.

It wouldn’t be surprising if someone had taken notice of Lucio’s interest in her. He hardly hid it, but never had she felt the sheer presence of something watching her like she did today.

_Just bear with it. It’ll be over soon._

She’d brought a book from the library with her when she left it earlier this morning, something light, but it was enough for her to not focus on the uneasy feeling sitting in her stomach.

However, the gods would have it another way, as the sound of booted footsteps heatedly approaching had her bookmarking her spot.

“Lucio, how are you?”

She looked up from her book at him, carrying a wine glass and his eyes bloodshot.

He looked ragged and a mess, his hair unkempt, eyes unfocused unless they were on her, and his clothes looking as if he’d slept in them, and on top of it all, the smell of strong wine surrounded him.

“Just peachy, Annie. Just swell.”

He plopped down onto the side of the fountain, unsteady and almost teetering back into the water, but he caught himself before that happened.

“Lucio, you don’t look it.”

She held an arm out cautiously behind him, not touching but there in case he accidentally lost his balance again.

It’s only midday and he’s completely wasted. 

“Annie, I have a question...”

She sighed, closing her eyes.

“Go on.”

“Where... did you go last night?”

She felt her stomach drop, struggling to maintain any chance of a neutral expression on her face.

“I stopped by a pub to eat and get something to drink before going home for the night.”

“Not in the room I gave you, though.”

He chugged the rest of his wine, some of it dripping down his chin and onto his chest.

“No... to be honest, I missed my own place, so I figured staying there for the night wouldn’t harm anything.”

He set aside his glass, stabilizing himself as he lounged, kicking his feet out as he looked at her, his eyes glossy.

“Heh, to be honest,” he started to giggle, smiling and biting his bottom lip, suddenly overcome with a giddy joy, “ah... you being honest, it just makes me laugh is all.”

She could feel the ice in her veins slow down to a snails pace.

“Why is that?“

“Oh come on Annie... I didn’t say you were stupid...” he leaned towards her, and she could smell the wine on his breath, “I said you were a _liar_.”

She blinked at him, unable to breathe.

“Annie... Annie... Annie... tell me about Jules.”

She cleared her throat, “You’ve known him longer than I have. What’s there to say?”

“Does he make you feel good?”

“Ok Lucio, we’re done here.”

She stood up quickly, mentally thanking him for drinking as much as he did, cause when he reached for her, he completely missed her, and standing up and balancing himself was enough for her to get ahead of him, walking as fast as socially possible away from him, ignoring his cries for her to wait.

__________

Anne beelined for her room, opening it and seeing Julian there on her bed, neatly folding and packing her things on the bed, startled at her sudden entrance.

She turned around and locked the door, grabbing her vanity chair and putting it under the door knob in a way that would prevent anyone from easily entering if they had a key to her room as well.

“Anne, what’s wrong?”

She shushed him, a finger to her mouth as she moved to him.

“Lucio knows about us.”

His eyes darkened, and he nodded.

“Then we’ve no time to lose.”

They threw as much as they could into the luggage Julian had brought, trying to be as quiet and quick as possible until they heard a smack against the door, startling them both, but they stayed quiet, hearing the knob being rattled.

They heard Lucio’s drunken laugh through the door, it groaning under the weight of him pressing into it.

“Annie, come on, I know you’re in there. Let’s _talk_.”

_Fuck._

She grabbed Julian, being as quiet as she could, her eyes darting around the room, his own arms protectively wrapping themselves around her.

Lucio had begun to slam into the door, ordering her to let him in, and yet somehow laughing at her thinking a door could stop him.

She looked to Julian, the window, and back to him, tightly squeezing his gloved hand in her own.

_Forget the stuff. Time to go._

She opened the window panel, no longer trying to be silent, and almost shoving Julian out of the window, watching him scale safely down the wall.

He held his arms out for her, as if to catch her, the sound of the door finally starting to break off its hinges behind her.

_Damn it._

She blew a kiss to him, smiling and mouthing the word _Run_ to him, his eyes going wide, and just as Anne closed the window, Lucio finally forced his way into her room, leading with his golden arm, blowing past the chair, chips of the door cracking as he shoved it out of his way.

They’d never have escaped on foot together. This way, at least Lucio wouldn’t be looking for Julian.

_Just her._

Lucio locked his eyes on her, taking in the sight before him.

“Do you feel better now having all but kicked in my door? What’s the matter with you? Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

She strode up to him, Lucio swaying on his feet.

“What’s the matter with me? You could’ve just opened the door. Whose in here with you?”

She hoped her eye roll was convincing, even when Lucio got down on his knees and began to look under her bed.

“No one’s in here.”

He looked back up at her, smiling drunkenly, his read rolling a little to the side.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to. Go ahead and search the whole room, see if I care.”

He pouted, frustrated and slowly getting to his feet.

“Annie, I want to know something.”

“Of course you do.”

“Hey this is serious... why... why don’t you like me?”

She blinked incredulously. Lucio couldn’t possibly be this kind of drunk...

“Excuse me?”

“I mean it... most men and women jump at the chance to be with me, but you don’t. You could ask for whatever you wanted, and I could give it to you, but you don’t.”

“I want you to leave me alone.”

“And that’s what confuses me!” His voice raised excitedly, his eyes wide and his body buzzing as he paced in front of her.

“What does Julian have that I don’t?”

“Lucio, enough.”

He moved close to her, his face inches from hers, and she could smell the sickening scent cherry wine.

“What about him is better than me? What?!”

He shouted at her, borderline hysterical before pulling himself back suddenly, his hands pressed against his face as he laughed gently, using his fingers to comb through his hair, pushing it out of his face.

“You know, Annie... when I find him... I’m gonna kill him.”

Her throat was dry and she felt her feet stick to the floor, her whole body sickeningly cold.

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Lucio.”

“Perhaps... but I know what I still want. Who... I still want.” He bit his bottom lip, running a cool metal talon down her chest, finding it’s resting place between her breasts.

“Just say yes.”

She could feel her heart beating in her chest.

_Give him this, and you’ll have a time to leave with Julian; leave all of this behind._

She looked Lucio in the eyes, his pupils blown wide as he breathed her in, waiting for an answer from her.

_If I do this... gods, Julian, I pray you know I do this for you. For us. I’m so sorry._

She slapped him, the sound of her hand cracking on his cheek before she grabbed him by his white shirt, pulling him into a feverish kiss, his skin burning hot, his own hands possessively gripping her by the sides of her head, fingers, both warm and cold metal, digging themselves into her hair.

She pushed him back before he moved his tongue inside her mouth, whispering harshly into his mouth, their eyes clashing together.

“I hate you.”

“Keep lying to yourself, Annie.”

He grabbed the front of her chemise and roughly tore at it, the thin fabric easily ripping, exposing her breasts to him as he forced his tongue into her mouth as he grabbed at her breast, roughly pulling at her nipple until she gasped, his mouth swallowing any sound she made, his hand trailing south of her hips while he held her by her hair, rubbing quick, little circles against her, her knees starting to feel weak.

“You’re shit at that.”

He laughed against her cheek, pulling his hand away from her as be backed himself towards the bed, not relinquishing an ounce of control to her with his other hand.

“You say the sweetest things, baby.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll call you whatever I like in bed, Annie.”

He sat on the bed, dragging her down to her knees in front of him as he undid the front of his pants, pulling out his dick so that she could see it. It was already hard, but he gave it a few pumps before holding the tip of it in front of her mouth.

“It isn’t going to suck itself, you know.”

She held her mouth firmly shut.

“Open your mouth already.”

She shook her head no.

He sighed, disappointed.

“Well, I at least tried to act nicely.”

He jabbed his metal thumb into her mouth, the metal grating against her teeth as she clenched her mouth tight against his prying, until he went past her teeth to the spot all the way in the back of her mouth, and pinched all the skin there between his index finger outside of her mouth.

It made her eyes water, and she cried out through her teeth, but she held them together.

“Stop fighting me already.”

He pinched even harder, her eyes shutting from the pain, and all too soon she caved, opening her mouth, his dick forced into her mouth as soon as he pulled his hand out, taking no time to ease her throat into the feeling of his dick, just immediately fucking her face, her whole body fighting him as she choked and gagged, but whenever she tried to instinctively pull away, he forced her head more onto his dick, laughing at her attempts to breathe.

“All that talk and bitchy attitude, and now look at you. Can’t even take my dick in your mouth properly.”

She glared up at him, trying to blink between the tears running down her face as she purposefully sucked at blowing him, making it so her teeth grated against his shaft, causing him to grunt in pain.

“That isn’t going to fucking stop me.”

He pulled her off his dick and up onto the bed, shoving her bags off the bed and onto the floor, the contents spilling out as he held her head down on her back, trying for an opportunity to kick him in the groin, his metal arm catching her at the last second.

“You’re feisty. It’s hot.”

_Ugh._

She glared at him as he threw her legs over his hips, pulling up her skirt over her hips.

_Get bored of this already, you absolute piece of-_

“Fuck you.”

“That’s the plan, babe.”

He shoved his way inside of her, and she keened like a cat, wincing at him forcing his way inside her, slamming her hand on his chest as he leaned over her.

“That fucking hurts.”

He picked a fast pace, an iron grip still in her hair as he used his other hand to stop the majority of her attempts to slap and hit him.

“Will you stop?”

She laughed bitterly, “It’s not my fault you disgust me.”

He laughed, all teeth, and he started to cough, covering his mouth with his arm as he started to cough out his lungs, wiping away at his mouth, a bit of blood smeared on the side of his mouth, and the white fabric on his sleeve smeared with flecks of blood.

She stared at the bit of blood on his his mouth, and then his bloodshot eyes, her face going numb as she blanked, images of the young boy in a broken house flashing through her mind.

_Oh gods._

“Get off of me.”

“No.”

“GET OFF OF ME!”

Her body screamed as she smacked, hit, and tried to kick at Lucio, but it only spurred him on. With each hit, he moved faster and harder inside her, her legs feeling as if they were bruising from where he was slamming his body into hers, grunting from the feeling of her around her.

She felt hot tears at the edge of her eyes, filled with a primal fear and hate for this man.

_He’s sick. He’s sick. He’s sick. No. No. NO!_

She tried to fight at the grip he had on her hair, hoping to claw at his skin, completely unaware of anything else other than her need to get away from him.

So much so, that she didn’t even hear Julian come into the room, only aware of him when he threw a punch at Lucio, his knuckles cracking against skin, and shoving Lucio off of her, who was groaning and grabbing at his face, blood freely flowing between his fingers and onto the bed.

She gasped, trying to focus and get her legs to work, to move, to escape, but she didn’t fight it when she felt familiar arms scoop her up and hold her close to his chest, the smell of rosemary on his shirt grounding her.

“He’s sick, Julian.”

“I know, darling, I’m so sorry, I’ll get you out of he-”

“No, he’s _sick_!”

She pointed at Lucio, turning to watch the realization dawn on Julian’s face, seeing Lucio glaring at them, the front of him covered in blood now, coughing and eyes red.

Still carrying her in her torn and partially bloody chemise, Julian shook his head, saying something under his breath in a language she didn’t understand, his grip tight on her.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere safe, I promise.”

“You can’t take me with you, Ilya.”

She cried as he shushed her, silently sobbing as he moved quickly through the castle, ignoring the concerned comments of servants as he was practically running.

“I’ll get you sick.”

“We don’t know that you’re even sick, rodnaya.”

“You know as much as I do that it doesn’t take much to get sick, and he kissed me, Julian, he fucked me, I-” She choked on her tears, burying her face in his shoulder.

“No... no, you’re not sick. I won’t allow you to get sick.”

His voice was strained.

“I will _not_ lose you to this plague.”


	11. Twilight

_How many days had it been in this hole?_

She coughed, wheezing in the darkness, her throat both tight and slowly filling with the horrible taste of tainted iron, the lantern which had been her only light in the darkness having dimmed to the point of hardly being lit.

She shivered, freezing and burning with a fever. She rolled over to where she’d set down her cup of water, and she struggled to swallow down the water, her body exhausted from trying to fight the illness that had quickly consumed her body.

She heard booted footsteps above her, and her heart raced, doing all she could to quiet her wheezing breath without forcing herself to hack and cough, but when she saw the hatch door open above her, she managed to give a weak smile.

“Julian.”

He began to climb down the steep steps, his plague mask on, mindful of where she was on the floor, and above him was the woman whose home they’d been staying in, Mazelinka.

“Here, more water and food. Heard they’ll be doing rounds again tonight, so stay there unless you want to get caught.”

She lowered down a blanket tied at the top, filled with soup and water, Julian taking it quietly.

“I owe you.”

“Yeah you do.”

She closed the hatch above them, bolting it shut and draping the rug over it, so that even if there was an inspection from the guards, it’d hopefully be less likely that they’d be caught.

In the days that followed their escape from the palace, Lucio had flown into a rage, ordering for both their arrest and for extreme efforts to round up everyone who was even possibly sick, and from what they’d heard from Mazelinka, they weren’t above kicking in doors and dragging people from their homes, all the way to the docks and taking them to an island not far off the shore.

No one had to guess what happened there. No one who left for the island ever came back, and it wasn’t snow that fell in Vesuvia in the late Summer.

Further more, escaping the city was all but a fantasy now, with it almost entirely being quarantined by order of the Count. They’d tried, Brundle with them and the bags on their backs, when they saw the barricade of soldiers preventing their escape, and that was before even the plague taking hold in her body; sucking the life out of her slowly.

They first sought refuge in her shop, or at least help from Asra, and looking back, she’d wished she’d never tried. All she found was an empty home, cold and abandoned. She remembered the letter Asra had left on their bed, apologizing but unable to remain in Vesuvia for any longer for her.

They left her behind, and they didn’t even know she was dying. She’d never be able to tell them goodbye.

She coughed, gagging and her whole body racked by her dry heaving as she clawed at her throat, the heavy taste of blood coating her mouth as she felt her body tense, Julian wrapping her in his arms as her body began to spasm, stiffening and loosening as her whole body seized, her breath hyperventilating.

He tried to coach her breathing, his hand just below her rib cage as he spoke in her ear, just loud enough for her to hear.

She listened to the same instructions he gave every time, trying to slow her breathing by deepening it, pushing his hand out, and it seemed with each try, it got harder, as with each day that passed, she struggled to breathe.

It was all academic, anyways, at least until her body stopped fighting her, so when she finally regained some control of her body, she laid their, slowly gasping for air as he assessed her condition, moving the lantern closer to her head, making sure she was as comfortable as she could be, propping pillows up and helping her drink and swallow water, even offering to spoon feed her the glowing golden soup Mazelinka had made, but she shook her head no.

“You need to eat, even just a few bites.”

“It won’t stay down.” Her voice was hoarse, so broken and hollow of her will to live.

She couldn’t see his face, but she tried to return the squeeze he gave her hand, the leather familiar and grounding, if only for a moment.

Be moved to undo the buttons of her dress, baring her skin to him as he reverently undressed her, setting the dress to the side before grabbing the blanket once again, pulling out a tankard of water, soap, and a sponge.

She hated this part. Felt so humiliated at the idea of anyone having to bathe her. The mere idea of it made her want to just die here and now, and she began to get choked up, hiding her face under her hands when she felt the cold sponge touch her skin, starting with her legs and feet.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, darling.”

She just cried, trying to be quiet as she silently sobbed into her hands, utterly broken and beaten.

“There’s no point to this, Julian.”

“Of course there is, we’re going to survive this, and then we’re going to leave, I promise you.”

He continued to bathe her as he spoke, as she wept.

“I’m going to die Julian.”

“That’s not true. I can save you.”

“No, you can’t. We couldn’t save anyone. There is no cure, and even if we found one today, it’s too late for me, I can feel it...”

“Stop that. Stop it.”

He crawled up to her face, pulling her hands away from her face so that he could hold her head with his hands, her tears hot as they ran down her face and into her hair, staring into the crimson glare of his goggles, holding onto his wrists.

“Anne, listen to me...”

His voice wavered, and she could see his chest flutter as he struggled to breathe through whatever he was feeling in that moment.

“I love you. I love you so much. And by the gods, I will not lose you, not when I’ve finally found you. I can fix you, and I will do whatever I have to in order to save you, no matter the cost. Do you hear me?”

She struggled to raise a hand to cup the side of his mask, and he met her half way, a gloved hand covering hers so she wouldn’t have to hold up her hand herself.

“Ilya, everyone dies. Trying to deny it won’t change my fate.”

He moved away, and she could feel the denial taking root in his mind once again.

“Please, just as you love me, know that I love you. Ilya, my sweetheart, listen to me...”

He looked at her, his chest heavy, but listening.

“At this point, you know, whether you want to admit it, that these last few days will be my final. I know... we had dreams, but... but I still have dreams of you living, or surviving this, and being able to help people like you always have.”

A shuddering breath, between the both of them.

“... and you can’t do that by clinging to my corpse, or my ghost.”

She coughed, it wracking her whole chest, and he wiped away at the blood that escaped her lips, still quiet.

“Let me die, Julian. I’m just suffering at this point.”

She reached for the bag next to him, unable to open it, but mentally willing him to understand the dark bottle she seeked.

_Kill me, my sweetheart._

He put a hand on his bag, not moving to open it, but his breath labored.

“Don’t ask me to do that.”

“Please...”

“I can’t do that, please don’t...”

“You don’t have to. Just don’t stop me.”

She could feel the cool metal of the clasp, doing what she could to open it, but a firm hand over hers knew that she’d never get so lucky.

So she stopped fighting him, laying there in defeat as he silently washed her, drying her body, and dressing her in a clean gown.

She offered no smiles, no words of comfort, didn’t even feel the embarrassment of her condition in that moment. Just... silent as the void.

She’d drifted out of consciousness a bit, perhaps, disassociating with reality long enough for her to miss the initial banging on the front door to Mazelinka’s abode, but she didn’t miss Julian not missing a beat, quickly extinguishing the lantern light and drawing her into his lap, cradling her tightly in her blanket, trying to use it to muffle the sound of her wheezing lungs, or worse, the sound of her cough, cause it would mean more than just her death, it would mean Julian’s as well.

She could hear the muffled sounds of arguing, followed by a man barking orders, several pairs of boots treading over them as they checked every cabinet and room for anyone sick. Julian hugged her close, slowly rocking her until she could feel the familiar itch of a cough, not even able to clear her throat to abate it, and she gripped onto Julian tightly.

_Oh no._

Just as she was about to, Julian wrapped a large hand over her mouth, his thumb and finger pinching her nose tightly, now completely unable to breathe.

Panic set in, her body’s primal instincts begging to breathe and fight him, but she was so weak, and as he locked her legs in place with his, he held that hand over her mouth and nose, the other pressing tightly on the sides of her neck as he choked her, her sight quickly fading into nothing as he knocked her out.

_____

She awoke to a lit room again, Julian gone once again.

She couldn’t keep going on like this until one day she lost her mind to the fever. She didn’t want to die, but more importantly, she didn’t want to go out like that, not like that poor woman and her son in that death trap of a home, wasting away until the skin on her bones was loose and rotting.

Crawling to her knees, she forced herself to reach the stairs leading to the hatch above her, and being extremely careful not to lose her footing, she slowly managed to crawl her way up to the door, shocked to see that it wasn’t locked when she pushed it up just enough for her to crawl through it, the house dark aside from the fire coming from the main room, from the fireplace that no doubt was cooking food.

She crawled like a worm on the floor, checking under the curtain that divided the two rooms to see only one person’s shadow in the room; Mazelinka.

Using the door frame, she pushed herself up the wall to a standing position, pushing aside the curtain to see Mazelinka watching her, no doubt having heard her struggle to crawl from the hole.

She looked her up and down, not moving.

“Where’s... Julian?”

“He doesn’t tell me, but if I know Ilya, it’s that he’s still trying to find a way out of the city sooner than what I can do.”

“You can get us out?”

Mazelinka frowned, meeting her gaze firmly.

“I can get him out. Not you. The people who could smuggle him out won’t get within ten steps of you.”

She leaned back against the wall, unsurprised of the news.

“Does Julian know that?”

“Do you think he’d believe me if I told him?”

She huffed a laugh out, her chest creaking from the effort.

“He’ll get himself killed if he keeps trying to save me.”

Mazelinka nodded, standing to stir the pot on the fire.

“I know... for better or for worse, he’s tied himself to ya, and no offense, but there’s nothing I can do or say to convince him to leave you behind, despite ya having one foot in the grave already. I’ve tried.”

Anne nodded, closing her eyes, settling her resolve to do what she knew she had to do.

“Mazelinka... which way are the docks from here?”

The older woman turned to look at her, a grim understanding passing between them.

“You’re in the southeastern district, girl, so you’d do best to turn left if you were to leave here and keep going straight. You’d hit the docks quickly from here, though it’d take much longer with your... situation.”

She stood their quietly, her body shaking yet determined when she used the wall to reach the door, a hand on the handle.

“Mazelinka, I have one more favor to ask.”

“Aye, what is it?”

“Please... please don’t tell him where I’ve gone. I don’t want him to try and follow me.”

She grunted, and Anne figured that was all she was going to get, before she heard the older woman stand, untying the scarf around her head.

“Here. It’s colder by the docks at night with the sea, but you’ll get farther if you can manage to hide your face from strangers passing by.”

She tied the scarf around her head, drawing the top of it down farther than what would normally be necessary; a sorry attempt to hide what was no doubt the blood like color of her eyes.

“Now go, before he comes back.”

Mazelinka held the door open long enough for her to slip out, the night a heavy blanket covering her tracks as she made what she realized was her final descent down these streets.

...

At least Mazelinka was right, though. It was still far for her, but the docks were close to the house, and she could see the torches at the very end of the docks, a silent vigil as people wailed and screamed as they were dragged on the boats, that is, if they even had the strength to do so, or if they were even alive anymore.

She shivered, pulling Mazelinka’s shawl tight around her, her resolve shaking as she forced her body to walk towards the guards there, no wall to support her, her vision dizzy and an overwhelming sense of nausea hitting her when she fell to the ground.

“Hey, whose that over there?”

Her heart was racing, and she tried to focus on the shadows approaching, her vision blurring.

“Sick... I’m...”

_I’m sick._

“Sir, I think we have another one over here.”

“What, turning themselves in? Check the eyes.”

A gloved hand ripped back the shawl from her head, sighing a moment, before wrapping arms around her torso, not bothering to help her stand, but rather just dragging her as if she were already a corpse.

“Eyes’re red, sir. Do we have room for her this time round?”

She still couldn’t see anything other than shadows and bright lights from the fire, her head rolling to the side, her neck having gone limp.

“Should be able to. Just throw her on top of the others, not like it matters anyways. And I don’t want to get sick from just being around her.”

The man holding her groaned as he hauled her to the edge of the dock, getting help from someone else in a boat as they handed her off to them, the boat rocking slightly from the transfer, and she was quickly dropped on top of a groaning mass of bodies and limps, others who’re sick and dying, if not already. It it weren’t for the wind coming off the sea tonight, she was certain she’d be able to smell the death coming from all of them right now.

She wondered how long it would be until she died.

_____

The boat ride to the island didn’t take long, though she wasn’t necessarily capable of telling the passage of time beyond it being night or day, and for those that could walk, they were directed by plague doctors to a small town of sorts, if you could even call it that. She leaned on the shoulder of another woman, her eyes red and her wheezing only just better than Anne’s, until they found a small open area in a smaller building, sitting down without another word as the heat of the day sweltered, the palm ceiling filtering out most of the light, small strays of light shining through it.

Anne moved little from the spot where she’d been left. Doctors observed from afar, removing bodies they believed dead to be taken away, burned and dumped into the mass grave they’d passed when they’d first arrived, just beyond the tree line, but for the most part, it was a steady flow of patients with bleeding hearts who walked around feeding the weakest among them, giving water to them, to her. From what she could remember, strangers would wake her, lifting her head and having her sip water out of clay bowls, fowl tasting from the inevitable ash contaminating everything on the island. She didn’t fight them though.

She was done fighting. She was ready.

The day passed in a blur, for she slept through most of it, her dreams feverish and disorienting, and she was unable to remember any of them.

When night came, the room was filled with the fevered moans of fitful sleeping bodies, or groaning from the pain that took most patients, or the sobbing of those who had yet to accept their deaths. In the far corner of the room, Anne could see what she thought was a young mother and a baby she was nursing, but she tore her eyes away when she realized that the infant had long since died, the mother not far behind.

_Gods damn it all please take me already! I don’t want to live through this anymore!_

She’d cry if she had anymore tears to give, her body dehydrated beyond repair. So much so that she hadn’t even needed to relieve herself all day.

She drifted in and out of consciousness again, but finally, when the room seemed to be quiet just before the dawn was coming, the sky starting to turn, she felt a cool hand on her face, their long fingers gently stroking her cheek.

She couldn’t see when she opened her eyes, her vision finally failing her, but she heard his voice loud and clear.

“Oh Anne, I’m here.”

She gasped, “Julian? Julian, how...?”

“Nevermind that, rodnaya. I’m here, and I’m never leaving you again, no matter what.”

She felt his kiss on her forehead, and she selfishly reached for him, her fear overcoming any generous, noble intentions she had held just the day before.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not. I chose to be here.”

She smiled, both grieving their inevitable deaths but thankful to not be dying alone in this hell.

_____

“Oh Ilya, I thought I’d never see you again.”

The two doctors standing by the doorway listened to the young woman curled up in the corner, her red eyes now beginning to rot out, the skin around her eyes turning black. As she laid there, she called out for someone she spoke who wasn’t there.

“Should we pull her out now?”

The other doctor considered, shaking their head.

“No... let her have this. She’ll be dead in an hour or so, maybe two if she’s unlucky.”

“And if she’s lucky?”

“If she was lucky? She’d already be dead by now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all know how the story ends before Asra makes a deal to save the apprentice, and the red plague was always described as fast acting, killing people within a week. It’s probably that Lucio only lived as long as he did through extremely powerful magic, so MC here stood practically no chance. 
> 
> I hope those of you who’ve been following this little fic have enjoyed your time reading my work. If you’d like, please look at my other fics (two other active ones, with plans for others in the near future). 
> 
> Happy holidays!


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